Cibrar  jp  ofChe  t:heolo0ical  ^eminarjp 

PRINCETON  • NEW  JERSEY 
PRESENTED  BY 

Presbyterian  Church  in  the  U.3.A. 
Department  of  History 

Presb.  B’d  ol  Pub.  CoU. 


ScB 

1 751 


1 


' A 


4 


I 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2016 


https://archive.org/details/chineseslavegirlOOdavi 


THE 


CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL; 

A STORY  OF  WOMAN’S  LIFE  IN  CHINA. 


BY  THE 

y 

Rev.  J.  a.  DAVIS, 


Formerly  of  Amoy,  China. 


PHILADELPHIA : 

PRESBYTERIAN  BOARD  OF  PUBLICATION, 

No.  1.331  Chestnut  Street. 


COPYRIGHT,  1880,  BY 

THE  TRUSTEES  OF  THE 

PRESBYTERIAN  BOARD  OF  PUBLICATION. 


Westcott  & Thomson, 
Stereotypers  and  Electrotypers,  Philada. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAGE 

The  Chujese  Baby 9 

CHAPTER  II. 

Sold  as  a Slave 16 

CIL\PTER  HI. 

Leng  Tso’s  Home 30 

CHAPTER  IV. 

The  Slave-Gikl  at  Work 43 

CHAPTER  V. 

A Maeriage  Engagement 57 

CHAPTER  VI. 

A Tiger. — The  Funeral 64 

3 


4 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

PAGE 

Into  Darkness 77 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Tue  Return  of  Hou 96 

CHAPTER  IX. 

The  Eclipse. — The  Wedding 104 

CHAPTER  X. 

Attacked  by  Robbers 121 

CHAPTER  XL 

Khiau’s  Visit  to  the  City 138 

CHAPTER  XII. 

Somebody  marries  Hou 150 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

Death  of  So  Chim 166 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Bargaining  for  a Wife 175 

CHAPTER  XV. 

A Baby  in  Hou’s  Home 189 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTEE  XVI. 

PAGE 

Khiau  leaves  Thau  Pau 197 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

The  Cholera 


205 


CHAPTEE  XVIII. 

Another  Slavery 


215 


CHAPTEE  XIX. 
Khiau  returns  to  Thau  Pau 


231 


CHAPTEE  XX. 

The  Home  in  the  Foo  City 


238 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

The  Rebels  capture  the  City 


262 


CHAPTEE  XXII. 

A Lonely  Wanuerer 


280 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

The  Struggle  and  the  Victory 300 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


A Joyful  Surprise 


318 


6 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

PAGE 

The  New  Religion  in  Thau  Pah  . 330 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

Khiau 350 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Meeting  of  Old  Friends 372 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

Closing  Views 384 


PREFACE. 


A BOOK,  it  is  presumed,  will  have  a preface,  as 
a dress-coat  is  expected  to  have  two  unused  buttons 
— with  this  diflFerence : the  buttons  are  a/-fixed,  the 
preface  j3/-c-fixed.  The  reason  is  the  same  in  each 
case  : that  is  the  way  in  which  books  and  coats 
are  usually  made.  As  to  use,  tradition  says  that 
the  supernumerary  buttons  once  had  a service  to 
perform ; so  a preface  was  of  value  once : it  was 
read.  Both  are  now  kept  embalmed  in  open 
tombs. 

As  some  readers  of  The  Chinese  Slave- Girl  may 
possibly  turn  back  from  the  end  of  the  last  chapter 
to  see  what  the  author  has  to  say  in  the  “ Preface,” 
we  add  a few  words  out  of  respect  to  them. 

This  narrative  is  not,  strictly  speaking,  a true 
story,  but  the  chief  incidents  are  actual  occur- 
rences, related  to  the  author  by  those  who  knew 
them  to  be  facts,  or  which  came  under  his  oavu 
observation  during  a residence  in  China.  The 


8 


PREFACE. 


characters  are  taken  from  real  life,  several  being 
personally  known  to  the  writer.  The  customs  and 
superstitions  are  such  as  prevail  in  Southern  China. 
The  chapter's  relating  to  mission- work  are  narra- 
tions of  actual  occurrences  previous  to  or  during 
the  residence  of  the  author  in  that  country.  The 
.story,  in  brief,  is  a series  of  facts  joined  together 
by  the  writer  with  threads  taken  from  his  own 
observation  and  experience. 

The  object  of  the  story  is  to  give  a fair  view  of 
woman’s  life  among  the  lower  and  middle  classes 
in  Southern  China.  If  there  be  an  exaggeration 
or  overstatement,  the  writer  is  unconscious  of  it. 
In  some  cases  he  is  certain  that  the  truth  would 
warrant  even  stronger  statements  than  those  here 
given. 

It  only  remains  to  be  said  that  the  tale  is  told 
in  a style  suited  to  young  rather  than  to  mature 
readers,  because  it  was  at  the  request  of  children 
that  it  was  written,  and  its  especial  object  is  to 
interest  the  young  in  the  people  and  the  women 
of  China. 


THE 


Chinese  Slave-Girl. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  CHINESE  BABY. 

Beside  one  of  the  small  rivers  in  Southern 
China,  and  not  many  miles  from  the  ocean, 
stands  a little  village.  The  houses  are  low  and 
only  one  story  in  height.  They  have  no  chimneys 
or  windows,  and  what  answer  for  windows  are  one 
or  two  holes  about  two  feet  square  with  wooden 
bars  across  to  keep  out  thieves.  Through  these 
windows  and  a narrow  door  in  each  house  comes 
all  the  light  and  air  that  the  people  living  within 
can  get.  Inside  are  no  whitewashed  walls,  no 
papering — nothing  but  the  rafters  and  tiled  roof 
overhead,  the  bare  walls  on  the  sides,  and  the  tile 
floor  below.  A few  wooden  chairs  or  stools,  a table, 
a few  dishes,  a small  earthen  furnace,  an  iron  pan, 
a skillet,  and  two  or  three  platforms  of  boards  on 
benches  with  a thick  quilt  or  blanket  to  serve  as 
beds,  are  about  all  the  furniture  that  these  houses 
have. 


9 


10 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


The  tiles  of  the  floor  and  roof  are  of  a dark, 
brick-red  color,  and  the  walls  are  dark  with  smoke; 
so  that  the  houses  which  are  not  newly  built  look 
more  like  farmers’  smoke-houses  than  like  homes 
in  which  people  liv'e.  Poor  as  these  homes  are, 
there  are  many  much  worse  in  China,  and  thou- 
sands— even  millions — of  people  there  have  no 
houses  at  all.  Many  thousands  live  in  boats  on 
the  water,  and  thousands  have  not  even  a boat- 
home,  but  a mere  shelter  to  cover  them  at  night; 
and  probably  many  have  not  even  a roof  to  hide 
them  from  the  storm. 

This  village,  like  many  others  in  Southern  China, 
is  built  on  the  south  side  of  a hill  and  under  a 
great  banyan  tree,  that,  like  an  immense  mother- 
hen,  spreads  its  wing-limbs  over  the  chick-houses. 
The  hill  keeps  off  the  chilly  winds  of  winter,  and 
the  tree  shades  the  people  in  summer. 

Before  one  of  these  houses,  many  years  ago,  two 
little  boys  sat  talking. 

“ Seng,”  said  one,  “ what  do  you  think  father  and 
mother  will  do  with  our  little  girl-baby?  I wish 
they  would  keep  it,  don’t  you?” 

“Yes,”  said  Seng;  “but  I am  afraid  they  will 
not.  I saw  Lim  Sai  the  other  day — he  has  been 
to  outer  lands,  you  know — and  he  told  me  that  they 
don’t  kill,  or  even  sell,  little  girls  in  those  coun- 
tries. I wish  that  we  lived  there ; then  we  poor 
boys  might  have  sisters  too.” 

“If  we  ask  father  very  much,  he  may  let  us 


THE  CHINESE  BABY. 


11 


keep  our  baby,”  said  lau,  the  other  boy.  “ Mother 
wants  to  keep  it.  I heard  her  ask  father  yesterday 
not  to  have  it  killed.  Why  do  people  kill  little 
girls  ? Why  can  they  not  live  as  well  as  boys  ?” 

“ I will  tell  you,”  said  Seng,  who  was  the  older : 
“ there  is  not  enough  rice  to  eat  for  all,  so  some- 
body must  be  killed,  or  many  would  starve;  and 
because  men  do  not  like  little  girls  they  kill  them 
instead  of  boys.  So  Uncle  Beng  told  me.” 

“ Perhaps,  if  you  and  I eat  less,  father  will  let 
us  keep  our  little  girl,”  said  lau.  “ I will  ask  him 
when  he  comes  home.” 

That  night,  when  the  father  came  in  from  his 
work,  lau,  who  was  playing  with  the  baby,  went 
to  him  and  said, 

“ Father,  will  you  let  us  keep  our  baby?” 

The  father  patted  his  boy’s  head,  for  he  loved  his 
children,  and  said, 

“ Little  lau  might  have  to  eat  his  rice  very  thin 
and  might  starve  if  we  kept  this  baby.  We  can- 
not spare  him.” 

“But,  father,”  pleaded  the  little  fellow,  “she  is 
so  small  that  she  will  hardly  need  anything  to  eat 
for  some  years.  By  that  time  Seng  and  I will  be 
men,  and  able  to  earn  enough  for  us  all.  It  is  our 
only  baby.  Please  do  not  give  it  away.” 

“ My  son,”  said  the  father,  “ I would  like  to  keep 
it,  but  I cannot  earn  enough  now  to  feed  us  all ; 
and  if  a drought  comes,  the  price  of  rice  will  be 
much  more,  and  then  we  must  starve.” 


12 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE- GIRL. 


“ Father,  Seng  and  I will  eat  very  little  rice  if 
you  will  let  us  keep  this  baby,  and  we  will  leave 
more  than  she  needs.” 

‘‘Perhaps  there  will  not  be  a drought,”  said 
Seng.  “Will  you  let  us  keep  it,  father,  until  a 
drought  does  come?” 

“Yes,”  said  lau;  “wait  and  see  if  one  does 
come.” 

The  mother  said  nothing,  for  she  knew  that  if 
her  boys  were  refused  she  would  be ; yet  her  anx- 
ious look  told  how  the  mother’s  heart  yearned  for 
the  little  one. 

Little  lau  went  back  to  the  child,  and,  putting 
his  arms  under  its  head,  lifted  it  up  as  he  said, 

“ Look,  father ! is  it  not  a nice  baby  ? What 
pretty  black  eyes  it  has ! How  they  wink  at  the 
light!  And  see  the  little  hands,  how  small  they 
are!  You  will  not  give  our  baby  away  to  strange 
people,  will  you,  father?  They  would  not  love  it 
as  we  do,  because  it  would  not  be  theirs ; it  is  ours, 
and  they  might  let  it  die.  You  do  not  want  our 
little  girl  to  die,  do  you,  father?” 

Either  lau’s  words  or  the  father’s  own  heart 
made  him  say, 

“ We  will  keep  the  baby — at  least,  until  drought 
comes.” 

Those  were  two  happy  boys  who  bent  over  their 
little  sister  as  they  fondled  and  called  her  loving 
pet  names  when  they  knew  she  was  to  be  kept. 
And  a few  days  after,  the  happy  mother  showed 


THE  CHINESE  BABY. 


13 


how  thankful  she  was  when  she  went  to  the  little 
village-temple  and  offered  her  thanks  to  the  idol 
for  sparing  the  child  to  her.  She  prayed  that  no 
drought  might  come  until  her  child  was  grown, 
and  promised,  if  the  little  one  was  spared  to  her, 
to  give  a fine  dish  of  fruits  and  food  to  the  god 
once  each  month. 

One  day  a neighbor  came  in  to  call  and  asked, 

“ Do  you  mean  to  keep  your  child  ?” 

“ Yes,”  said  the  mother ; “ it  is  our  only  girl, 
and  its  father  has  promised  that  we  may  keep  it — 
at  least,  until  a drought.  I hope  none  will  come,” 
“Lin  So’s  baby  is  gone,  you  know,”  said  the 
neighbor. 

“Why  did  they  not  keep  it?  They  are  not 
poor,  and  could  easily  bring  up  all  of  their  chil- 
dren,” said  the  mother. 

“ Lin  said  that  it  did  not  pay  to  bring  up  girls. 
Men  can  get  wives  for  so  little  money  now  that  he 
could  not  afford  to  raise  girls  for  wives.  He  said 
that  if  he  could  keep  his  girls  at  home  as  long  as  he 
lived  he  would  not  have  them  taken  away,  but,  the 
rule  of  our  nation  being  to  have  every  girl  married 
as  soon  as  she  is  grown  up,  he  did  not  see  any  use  in 
caring  for  his  girls  at  all.  Liu  So,  his  wife,  did  not 
seem  to  care  much.  If  I had  any  girls,  I would 
rather  have  them  killed  than  sold  for  slaves.” 

“I  do  not  think  so,”  said  the  mother.  “And 
if  I knew  that  my  child  had  to  be  the  slave  of 
some  man  after  a while,  I would  rather  keep  her — 


14 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-GIRL. 


until  that  time,  any  way — than  to  have  her  killed. 
Oh,  it  is  awful  to  think  of  killing  one’s  own  flesh 
and  blood ! I do  not  see  how  any  father  can  do  it, 
or  mother  consent  to  it.  If  the  child  becomes  a 
slave,  its  slave-time  lasts  only  until  it  is  married, 
and  during  that  time  the  mother  may  see  her  child 
again,  but  when  it  is  killed  the  mother  can  never, 
never  press  her  child  to  her  heart  again.” 

“ That  may  be  true,”  said  the  neighbor ; “ but 
rather  than  have  my  own  flesh  and  blood  abused, 
and  almost  killed,  as  the  slave  of  some  cruel  man, 
and  afterward  become  the  wife,  or  only  the  second 
or  third  wife,  of  some  one  who  does  not  care  for 
her,  I would  willingly  see  my  child  killed.  It 
would  at  k'ast  be  out  of  misei’y.” 

“ But  it  is  wrong,”  said  the  other,  “ to  kill  our 
girls.  The  officers  of  government  often  put  out 
proclamations  forbidding  it.” 

“That  is  true,”  replied  the  neighbor;  “yet  we 
all  know  that  they  do  not  try  to  find  out  who  does 
it,  and,  if  they  did  know,  would  not  punish  any 
one  for  killing  girls.  Besides,  the  very  officers 
who  make  the  jinxilainations  may  have  killed 
their  own  children.” 

“ We  knoiv  that  the  great  and  good  men  of  the 
kinsdom  write  manv  books  and  tracts  to  teach  the 
people  not  to  kill  their  offspring,  and  they  know 
better  than  we  what  is  right,”  answered  the  mother. 

“ Few  can  read  their  books,  and  those  few  do 
not  take  the  trouble  to  teach  the  many  people  who 


THE  CHINESE  BABY. 


15 


cannot  read.  If  all  could  read,  there  are  two  other 
books  ever  before  us  that  all  can  undei’stand  : near- 
ly all  of  us  are  poor  and  hardly  know  how  to  get 
food  for  the  mouths  of  those  who  live,  and  women 
and  girls  are  not  counted  in  our  country.  We  all 
read  and  understand  those  books.” 


CHAPTER  II. 

SOLD  AS  A SLAVE. 

IN  some  parts  of  China,  especially  the  southern 
portion,  the  country  is  so  crowded  with  people 
that  the  land  cannot  produce  enough  to  feed  the 
multitudes.  Though  nearly  every  spot  of  ground 
that  can  be  used  is  planted  or  sown — even  the 
hillsides  being  terraced — and  though  from  two 
to  four  cTops  are  produced  in  a year  from  the 
.same  field,  yet  even  then  many  poor  must  suffer 
Ijecause  there  is  not  enough  food  for  them.  In 
the  best  seasons  it  is  not  uncommon  to  hear  of 
people  dying  of  starvation.  It  is  tiue  there  is 
food  to  be  bought,  but  the  jirice  is  sometimes  be- 
yond the  reach  of  the  poorest  people.  Often  there 
come  severe  droughts,  and  for  many  months  no 
rain  falls;  then,  one,  two,  or  even  more,  crops  fail- 
ing, famine  and  starvation  come.  Hundreds  and 
thousands  die  because  they  have  not  money  enough 
to  buy  food,  and  sometimes  becau.se  there  is  no 
food  to  buy.  If  there  were  good  roads  and  con- 
veyances for  carrying  grain,  it  could  be  brought 
from  districts  where  it  is  abundant;  but  there 
16 


SOLD  AS  A SLA  VE. 


17 


are  few  good  roads,  and  so  one  province  suffers 
famine  whilst  others  have  plenty. 

For  more  than  tlu’ee  years  the  rainy  season  came 
and  abundance  of  rain  fell,  and  during  the  summer 
occasional  showers  kept  the  wells  and  streams  sup- 
plied with  water.  But  when  Leng  Tso — for  thus 
the  little  girl  was  named — was  nearly  four  years 
old,  there  came  a dreadful  drought.  The  rainy 
season  passed  by,  an<l  not  enough  raiu  fell  to  fill 
the  wells  and  streams.  The  farmers  had  planted 
the  first  crop  of  rice,  and  from  the  half-filled  wells 
and  low  streams  flooded  all  the  rice-fields  for  a 
week  or  two.  But  each  day  the  water  in  the  wells 
and  streams  grew  less,  and  by  and  by  not  half  of 
the  fields  could  be  flooded.  The  farmers  closed 
the  little  canals  farthest  away  from  the  wells  or 
streams  leading  the  water  from  field  to  field,  in  the 
hope  that  those  rice-fields  nearest  the  water  might 
be  saved,  but  in  vain. 

One  after  another  the  streams  stopped,  the  wells 
gave  out,  and  the  rice-fields,  no  longer  flooded 
every  day,  soon  became  dry,  and  opened  in  great 
cracks  around  the  bunches  of  rice.  Long  before 
it  was  tin}e  the  rice  ripened,  but  there  was  no  grain 
in  the  heads,  and  without  threshing  it  the  farmers 
stowed  away  the  empty  straw.  Day  by  day  the 
people  looked  for  rain,  and  day  after  day  they 
went  to  the  temples  to  pray  to  the  gods  that  rain 
might  come.  The  officers  of  the  government  sent 
orders  through  the  country  forbidding  the  people 

9 


1« 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


to  kill  any  animal  or  eat  any  meat,  because,  they 
said,  the  gods  were  angry  with  the  people  for 
taking  life. 

As  no  rain  fell,  it  was  useless  to  plant  or  do 
any  work  in  the  field — nothing  could  grow ; so 
poor  people  had  no  work.  The  price  of  rice  rose 
more  and  more.  All  crops  failed,  and  every  kind 
of  food  became  scarce  and  very  dear. 

One  day  Leng  Tso’s  father  came  home  more  sad 
than  ever. 

“ We  will  soon  have  nothing  to  eat,”  said  he. 
“My  money  is  nearly  gone,  and  I can  earn  no 
more.  Even  if  I could  get  work,  the  price  of 
food  is  so  high  that  I could  not  earn  enough  to 
keep  five  mouths  from  starving.”  He  had  said 
nothing  about  giving  Leng  Tso  away,  for  he,  like 
the  rest,  had  learned  to  love  the  little  girl.  But 
now,  as  she  happened  to  be  out  of  the  house,  he 
said,  “ There  is  no  other  way : we  must  sell  Leng 
Tso.” 

“Oh,  must  my  little  darling  be  sold?”  said  the 
mother  as  she  turned  away  to  hide  her  sorrow. 
Distress  had  made  the  child  dearer  than  ever 
now. 

Ian,  who  heard  what  was  said,  came  to  his 
father,  and,  looking  up  into  his  face,  asked, 

“Father,  do  you  mean  to  sell  our  little  Leng 
Tso?” 

“We  must  do  something,  my  boy,”  said  the 
father,  “or  we  will  all  staiwe.” 


SOLD  AS  A SLAVE. 


19 


“ But  why  need  you  sell  her  ?”  said  the  little 
fellow.  “What  will  become  of  her  then?  Per- 
haps we  will  never  see  her  again.  Don’t  sell  our 
little  sister,  father.  She  is  the  only  one  we  have. 
If  you  will  let  us  keep  her,  Seng  and  I will  eat 
very  little.  We  will  eat  only  once  a day.” 

“ My  child,”  said  the  father,  “ we  shall  soon 
have  nothing  to  eat  at  all,  and  then  we  must  all 
die.  If  we  sell  Leng  Tso,  she  will  be  fed  and 
live,  and  we  shall  be  able  to  buy  food  with  the 
money  and  live  too.” 

“Father,”  said  the  boy,  “if  some  one  must  be 
sold,  then  sell  me.  I am  bigger  than  Leng  Tso, 
and  will  bring  more  money;  besides,  it  will  take 
less  to  feed  her  than  me.” 

“ My  poor  boy,”  said  lau’s  father,  “ we  cannot 
let  you  go.  Besides,  you  are  too  old  for  any  one 
to  adopt,  and  you  know  that  nobody  will  buy  boys 
for  anything  else.  No ; W’e  must  sell  our  little 
girl : there  is  no  other  way.” 

A few  days  after,  a strange  man  came  to  take 
little  Leng  Tso  away.  He  had  given  six  dollars 
to  the  father  for  her,  and  now  she  must  be  a little 
slave-girl.  She  could  have  no  father,  no  mother, 
no  brothers,  no  home,  to  call  her  own.  The  poor 
mother  dared  not  refuse  to  give  up  her  child  to  the 
stranger.  What  her  husband  did  or  said  was  law 
to  her,  but  his  word  could  not  make  the  mother 
love  the  little  girl  less.  She  begged  the  new  mas- 
ter to  let  her  have  her  child  for  a few  minutes 


20 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-GTRL. 


longer.  She  took  the  little  one  before  the  ances- 
tral tablet,  and,  the  two  kneeling  together,  the 
mother  prayed  the  spirit  of  the  dead,  who  was 
supposed  to  be  in  the  tablet,  to  take  care  of  her 
little  girl  and  bring  her  back  again  to  the  mother’s 
heart.  She  prayed  the  spirit  to  make  the  drought 
pass  away  soon  and  to  make  them  rich,  so  that  they 
might  buy  back  their  child.  Then,  taking  Leng 
Tso  out  of  the  house  to  the  stranger,  who  was 
waiting,  the  mother  threw  her  arms  around  the 
little  one,  and,  pressing  the  child  closely  to  her 
heart  in  one  long  last  embrace  of  mother’s  love, 
she  cried, 

“ Goa  e simkoa,  goa  e simkoa  u sit-loh (“  My 
heart,  my  heart  have  lost.”) 

Little  Leng  Tso  could  not  understand  the  mean- 
ing: of  all  this.  But  when  the  strange  man  took 
her  to  carry  her  off,  she  struggled  hard  to  be  free 
and  screamed  to  her  mother  to  take  her  away  from 
him.  In  spite  of  all  her  struggles  and  cries  she 
was  carried  awaj^,  while  the  poor  mother  stood  at 
the  door  wringing  her  hands  and  crying,  “ Goa  e 
simkoa,  goa  e simkoa 

After  telling  the  stranger  which  was  the  child 
the  father  went  away,  as  though  he  did  not  dare 
to  see  the  sorrow  of  separation.  But  the  two  boys, 
when  they  saw  that  their  little  sister  had  been 
sold  to  a stranger,  were  too  frightened  to  do  any- 
thing except  cry.  What  a father  does  to  his  chil- 
dren when  yet  young  in  China  is  right  in  law.  He 


SOLD  AS  A SLAVE. 


21 


may  sell,  or  even  kill,  them,  ami  the  law  does  not 
punish,  or  even  notice,  his  act. 

When  the  man  carried  Ijeng  Tso  away  the  boys 
ran  along,  and  between  their  sobs  tried  to  comfort 
the  little  girl.  Both  promised  to  go  every  day  to 
the  temple  to  pray  for  rain,  so  that  their  father  might 
get  wmrk  and  buy  her  back.  They  promised,  too,  that 
if  she  did  not  come  back  before,  they  would,  as  soon 
as  they  were  able,  earn  money  and  buy  her  them- 
selves, and  then  she  should  alwavs  live  with  them 
and  their  mother ; even  if  a drought  came,  they 
would  not  sell  her : they  would  die  together  first. 

When  they  had  gone  some  distance  from  the 
village,  the  man,  who  had  said  little  before,  now 
told  the  boys  that  if  they  did  not  return  home  at 
once  and  stop  troubling  his  slave  he  would  beat 
them  severely ; thus  he  forced  them  back.  As  the 
poor  little  child  saw  that  she  was  left  entirely  alone 
with  the  stranger,  she  screamed  as  though  her  heart 
was  broken.  She  called  her  brothers,  begging  them 
not  to  let  her  be  carried  off,  but  to  take  her  back 
to  her  mother.  The  master,  instead  of  trying  to 
soothe  and  comfort  her,  slapped  her  several  times 
in  the  face,  and  told  her  to  be  still  or  he  would 
whip  her  to  death.  Half  dead  with  terror,  the 
little  girl  tried  to  be  still,  but  could  not  keep  back 
the  sobs  that  would  come,  nor  could  she  help  the 
low  cry  that  every  little  while  forced  itself  from 
her  almost  breaking  heai’t. 

After  walking  a mile  or  two  the  man  came  to 


‘22 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-GIRL. 


another  village  along  the  water.  Here  lay  a boat 
ready  to  start  up  the  river.  Into  this  he  took  Leng 
Tso,  and  soon  they  were  on  their  way  up  stream. 
There  was  no  wind,  and  the  boatmen  had  to  row 
and  push  the  boat  against  the  current.  All  day 
long,  stopping  now  and  again  to  rest  or  to  eat,  they 
were  slowly  forcing  their  way  up  the  river.  When 
night  came  the  boat  was  anchored  in  the  middle  of 
tlie  stream,  and  the  boatmen  and  Leng  Tso’s  mas- 
ter fell  asleep. 

There  was  an  old  woman  on  the  boat  who  had 
begged  the  boatmen  to  take  her  along,  and  to  this 
woman  the  owner  of  Leng  Tso  had  given  the  chai’ge 
of  the  little  girl.  She  had  tried  to  comfort  and 
soothe  the  little  one  and  get  her  to  talk,  but  the 
child  would  only  say  again  and  again,  “ I want  my 
mother.”  As  night  came  on  the  wearied  child  laid 
her  head  on  the  kind  old  woman’s  lap  and  went  to 
sleep. 

Very  early  the  next  morning  Leng  Tso  was 
awakened  by  the  boatmen,  who  had  hoisted  anchor 
and  were  pushing  their  boat  up  the  river.  She 
looked  around  and  began  crying  and  calling  for 
her  mother.  The  old  woman  who  had  been  so 
kind  to  her  the  night  before  now  awoke  and  tried 
to  quiet  the  child.  By  and  by  she  suce*eeded  so  far 
that  Leng  Tso  listened  as  So  Chim — for  that  was 
the  old  woman’s  name — asked  who  her  mother  was 
and  where  she  lived. 

“Don’t  you  know  my  mother?”  said  the  child. 


SOLD  AS  A SLAVE. 


23 


“ I know  her.  She  is  my  mother ; and  she  is  Seng’s 
mother,  and  Ian’s  mother  too.  She  lives  at  home. 
Will  you  take  me  to  her?  I don’t  want  to  go  with 
that  bad  man  ; he  hurt  me.” 

“’Sh-h!”  said  So  Chim;  “don’t  talk  so;”  and 
with  a nod  of  her  head  and  a motion  of  her  hand 
toward  Leng  Tso’s  master,  who  yet  lay  asleep,  the 
old  woman  made  the  child  understand  that  nothing 
must  be  said  about  him  while  he  was  near.  Then, 
in  a true  motherly  way,  she  began  to  turn  the  little 
girl’s  attention  to  things  around  her  that  she  might 
think  less  about  home.  She  pointed  out  the  boats 
going  down  stream,  and  told  her  with  what  they 
were  loaded.  One  had  a great  many  large  open- 
work baskets  shaped  something  like  immense  fruit- 
cans,  only  they  were  large  at  the  bottom  and  had 
but  a small  hole  at  the  top.  Each  one  of  these 
baskets  held  from  six  to  twenty  live  chickens, 
ducks  or  geese.  Another  boat  had  a gi’eat  many 
pigs,  each  one  in  a long  narrow  round  basket  with- 
out top  or  bottom.  None  of  these  pigs  were  tied, 
and  none  could  get  away.  Each  one  seemed  as 
contented  and  comfortable  as  though  he  were  going 
home,  and  not  to  market.  So  Chim  told  tlie  little 
girl  how  the  men  put  these  pigs  into  the  baskets. 
Several  of  them  were  driven  into  pens  that  were 
all  closed,  except  that  there  was  one  small  hole  on 
the  side.  In  this  hole  one  of  these  baskets  was 
put,  with  its  opening  or  mouth  right  in  the  hole. 
Then  a couple  of  boys  would  go  into  the  pen  and 


24 


THE  CHIXESE  SLAVE-GIEL. 


pull  a pig,  by  its  tail  and  legs,  away  from  the  open 
basket,  and  then  suddenly  let  the  animal  go.  As 
soon  as  it  was  loose  it  would  rush  to  the  hole  and 
get  caught  in  the  basket ; the  outside  end  of  the 
basket  being  narrower  than  the  other,  the  pig  would 
be  as  tight  a prisoner  as  could  be. 

Leng  Tso  thought  this  very  funny,  and  she 
laughed  to  think  of  the  foolish  pigs  who  went  just 
the  way  the  men  wanted  them  to  go,  and  yet  thought 
that  they  were  doing  just  as  the  men  did  not  wish. 

Some  distance  behind  the  ‘‘  pig-boat  ” came  one 
loaded  with  bundles  of  small  brush  and  dried 
weeds,  which  the  old  woman  said  were  taken  down 
to  the  large  city  to  make  fire  with  for  cooking  rice. 
Then  came  a larger  boat  loaded  with  heavy  sticks 
of  timber.  These,  So  Chim  said,  were  taken  to 
the  great  city  to  be  made  into  boards. 

As  the  little  girl  was  too  young  to  understand 
much  about  a Chinese  lumber-yard  and  saw-mill, 
we  will  tell  the  boys  and  girls  who  are  older  what 
kind  of  an  establishment  a ('hinese  lumber-yard 
and  saw-mill — for  they  go  together — is. 

The  timber-merchant  kee])s  his  lumber  in  logs 
until  the  boards  are  ordered.  These  logs  he  often 
leaves  in  the  water,  though  usually  he  has  them  on 
the  shore,  out  of,  but  not  far  away  from,  the  water. 
When  anv  one  wants  boards  he  goes  to  the  lum- 
berman and  gives  the  order.  Immediately  one  or 
more  logs  are  hoisted  or  rolled  upon  benches  three 
or  more  feet  in  height,  and  two  men,  with  a saw 


SOLD  AS  A SLAVE. 


25 


very  much  like  our  buck  or  wood-saw,  only  the 
frame  is  at  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees  with  the 
plane  of  the  saw-blade,  go  to  work  to  saw  the  tim- 
ber into  boards.  One  man  stands  on  the  top  to 
pull  the  saw  up,  and  the  other  stands  or  squats 
under  the  log  to  pull  the  saw  down.  And  this  is 
the  only  way  we  have  ever  seen  or  heard  of  boards 
being  sawn  from  logs  in  China. 

At  one  place  along  the  bank  Leng  Tso  heard  a 
great  clatter.  Looking  to  the  spot  from  which  the 
noise  came,  she  saw  two  men  standing  in  a frame, 
by  which  they  were  holding  with  their  hands, 
while  with  their  feet  they  were  treading  on  blocks 
fastened  to  a large  stick  whose  ends  were  in  the 
sides  of  the  upright  frame.  By  treading  on  these 
blocks  they  made  the  stick  turn  round,  and  over 
the  top  of  it  she  saw  small  square  boards  running 
so  fast,  one  after  the  other,  that  they  could  not  be 
counted.  These  boards  were  fastened,  about  a foot 
apart,  on  a rope  or  a jointed  stick,  and  came  up 
through  a long  square  box  that  reached  from 
the  river  to  the  top  of  the  bank.  These  boards 
ran  down  under  the  box  into  the  water  and  then 
back  again  into  the  box,  and  so  kept  going  the 
round. 

“ What  are  they  doing  there  ?”  asked  the  little 
girl. 

“They  are  pumping  water  out  of  the  river  to 
flood  the  rice-field,”  said  So  Chim. 

“ But  they  don’t  dip  the  water  out  of  the  river 


26 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


where  ray  mother  lives.  They  dip  it  out  of  the 
wells.” 

“ Xo,”  replied  So  Chim,  “ that  is  near  the  ocean, 
and  the  water  of  the  river  is  salt.  It  would  kill 
the  rice.” 

AVhen  it  was  nearly  noon  the  boatmen  turned 
their  boat  toward  the  shore,  and  where  a path  went 
up  from  the  river  fastened  the  boat  to  the  bank. 
"When  Leng  Tso’s  master  had  paid  the  boatmen,  he 
turned  to  the  little  girl  and  said, 

“Come!  we  get  off  here.  Come  along!”  and, 
without  stopping  to  see  whether  she  followed  or 
not,  he  walked  over  the  plank  to  the  shore. 

Leng  Tso  stood  still  and  began  to  cry.  No 
sooner  did  the  man  hear  her  than  he  turned  around 
and  spoke  so  sharply  that  the  little  girl,  who  had 
not  forgotten  the  blows  of  the  day  before,  was 
still  in  a moment.  As  the  big  tears  rolled  down 
her  cheeks  she  put  up  her  little  arms  to  So  Chim 
and  said,  “ Please  carry  me.”  The  kind  old 
woman,  though  she  had  a heavy  bundle  of  her 
own  to  carry,  stooped  down  and  took  Leng  Tso 
also.  The  little  child  pressed  her  face  against  the 
wrinkled  cheek  of  So  Chim  and  whispered, 

“ I want  to  be  with  you.  I like  you.  You 
are  good,  just  as  my  mother  is.  Y'^ill  you  take 
me  back  to  her?  She  will  love  you  then.” 

“Not  now,”  said  she,  “but  some  day  I will 
try.” 

After  walking  for  several  miles  and  resting 


SOLD  AS  A SLAVE. 


27 


every  little  distance — for  the  man  seemed  just 
as  willing  to  rest  as  did  So  Chim — the  three 
came  to  a small  village  that  stood  right  at  the 
foot  of  a mountain.  Of  this  village  we  will 
tell  more  in  the  next  chapter. 

Every  one  whom  she  saw  was  strange  to  the 
little  girl,  and  each  one  looked  at  her  so  sharply 
that  she  clung  closer  to  So  Chim’s  hand — for  she 
was  walking  now — and  tried  to  hide  her  face  in 
the  old  woman’s  dress.  She  heard  the  people  say 
in  a low'  voice  as  she  w'ent  by,  “ Ha ! PIou  Lo  lias 
bi’ought  another  little  girl-slave.  Wonder  if  he 
will  kill  this  one  too?”  Leng  Tso  did  not  under- 
stand what  they  meant,  but  thought  that  they  were 
talking  about  the  man  whom  she  was  following; 
and  it  made  her  more  afraid  than  ever. 

By  and  by  the  man  stopped  at  a door,  and, 
opening  it,  told  Leng  Tso  to  go  in  there,  for  it 
was  his  house.  When  she  saw'  that  So  Chim  was 
going  on  farther,  she  began  to  cry  and  held  to  her 
hand,  saying, 

“ Don’t  go  away.  Take  me  home  to  my  mother. 
Stay  with  me.” 

The  old  w'oman  could  only  say,  “ I w'ill  come 
.soon  and  see  you,”  before  the  man  pushed  the 
little  girl  through  the  door,  and,  follow'ing,  shut 
it  behind  him.  Then,  pushing  her  through  anoth- 
er door,  into  a room  w'here  a w'ornan  and  a girl 
w'ere  sitting,  he  said, 

“ Here  is  a little  slave-girl  I have  brought. 


28 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


Whip  her  if  she  cries,  and  make  her  mind.  She 
will  soon  be  large  enough  to  work.” 

This  woman  and  girl  were  the  wife  and  daughter 
of  Hon,  the  master  of  Leng  Tso,  and  they  seemed 
nearly  as  much  afraid  of  him  as  the  little  girl  was. 

either  of  them  said  anything— for  they  had 
learned  long  ago  that  the  less  they  said  to  him 
the  better— but  both  looked  so  closely  at  the 
child  that  she  began  again  to  cry.  One  look 
from  the  man  and  a sharp  word,  “Still!’  made 

her  silent. 

After  eating,  Hou  went  out;  then  the  woman 
brought  the  child  a bowl  of  rice  and  a pair  of 
chopsticks  and  told  her  to  eat.  She  ate  all  the 
rice,  for  she  was  very  hungry,  as  she  had  eaten 
nothim>-  since  she  was  taken  away  from  home.  On 
the  way  she  had  felt  too  badly  to  eat  the  food  her 
ma.ster  offered.  Night  came  soon,  though  the 
time  seemed  very  long  to  Leng  Tso;  and  alter 
eating  another  bowl  of  rice  she  was  told  to  go  to 


On  two  benches  in  a small  room  lay  some  boards, 
and  on  these  were  a large  Chinese  “pay”  (a  km 
of  thick  quilt  or  “comfortable”)  and  a smal 
bamboo  frame  for  a pillow:  this  was  Leng  Iso  s 
bed.  But  as  the  poor  Chinese  rarely  have  a better 
—if,  indeed,  as  good— bed,  this  one  did  not  seem 
very  bad  to  the  little  girl ; yet  it  was  not  l^er  own 
bed  by  her  mother’s.  Here,  alone  m the  dark, 
with  no  one  to  comfort  her,  no  one  to  sit  by  her 


SOLD  AS  A SLAVE. 


29 


until  she  slept,  the  tired,  friendless  little  slave-girl 
cried  herself  to  sleep. 

Before  she  lay  down,  however,  she  thought  of 
her  mother  taking  her  to  see  the  ancestral  tablet 
and  teaching  her  there  to  bow  and  ask  the  spirit 
in  the  tablet  to  watch  over  her  while  she  slept. 
Xow  she  thought,  “ Mother  is  not  here  to  help 
me  pray,  and  there  is  no  spirit  to  whom  I can 
pray ; the  au  bin  lang  ” (“  black-faced  man  ”) 
“ of  wliom  the^  boys  used  to  tell  me,  or  the  mmo 
kui”  (‘■'evil  spirits”)  “will  get  me.” 

Thus  trembling  with  fear  the  little  child  crept 
into  bed,  and  cried  softly  and  piteously  for  her 
mother  until  sleep  silenced  everything  but  the  sobs 
that  came  again  and  again  as  the  great  waves  after 
a storm,  rolling  in  from  the  ocean  of  the  heart  and 
breaking  upon  the  shores  of  stillness  around. 

Poor  Leng  Tso ! She  had  never  heard  of  .Jesus, 
who  watches  over  children  when  they  sleep.  The 
only  ones  to  whom  she  knew  how  to  pray  were  the 
idols  in  the  temples  and  the  spirits  of  the  dead, 
who,  her  mother  said,  lived  in  the  tablets  or  at  the 
graves.  Leng  Tso  had  no  knowledge  of  Jesus : no 
wonder  she  was  afraid  at  night.  But  there  are 
many — very  many — Leng  Tsos  in  the  world. 


CHAPTER  III. 

LENG  TSO’S  HOME. 

The  village  in  which  Leng  Tso’s  master  lived 
lay  at  the  foot  of  a mountain.  It  was  also 
at  the  end,  or  head,  of  a plain,  and  was  called 
Thau  Pan,  or  “Head  of  Plain.”  Though  small, 
Thau  Pau  was  a very  old  place  and  quite  differ- 
ent from  most  Chinese  villages.  Instead  of  being 
composed  of  a cluster  of  houses,  it  appeared  from 
the  outside  like  a high  circular  wall  that  had 
become  black  with  age.  Thau  Pau  was  really  a 
large  round  house  with  high  strong  walls  on  the 
outside.  The  rooms  were  built  against  that  wall, 
facing  inward  and  all  around ; in  the  centre  was  a 
large  o]^n  yard  or  court.  To  get  a better  idea  of 
this  village,  imagine  an  immense  round  box,  with- 
out top  or  bottom,  having  another  box,  somewhat 
smaller,  standing  inside.  The  space  between  the 
two  would  represent  the  house  or  houses,  and  the 
space  inside  of  tlie  smaller  box  would  be  the  yard. 

In  the  house  there  were  two  stories.  The  rooms 
on  the  ground  were  used  partly  as  dwellings  for  the 
people,  but  more  as  the  homes  of  the  cattle,  goats, 
(logs,  poultry,  and  pigs  of  course,  while  the  rooms  on 
30 


LENO  TSO'S  HOME. 


31 


the  second  floox’  were  for  the  people.  The  outer 
wall  had  no  windows  or  doors,  hut  a couple  of  gates 
that  could  be  securely  closed  in  case  of  need. 

Such  walled  villages,  or  circular  houses,  are  now 
seldom  seen  in  Southern  China,  and  those  that  re- 
main are  rapidly  going  to  ruin.  Thau  Pau,  though 
among  the  last  of  these  laus,  as  the  Chinese  call 
them,  was  going  to  decay  too ; and  in  one  place, 
toward  the  mountain,  the  outer  wall  had  fallen 
down,  and  the  rooms  in  that  part  had  long  ago 
been  given  up  when  Leng  Tso  was  brought  to 
the  place. 

Such  villages  were  probably  built  hundreds  of 
years  ago  to  protect  the  people  from  wild  beasts, 
robbers  and  the  warlike  attacks  of  the  inhabit- 
ants of  neighboring  villages.  Less  than  a hundred 
years  ago  it  was  a common  thing  in  China  for  the 
people  of  one  village  to  attack  and  try  to  rob  those 
of  another.  Many  now  living  there  can  remember 
such  village  wars.  Though  becoming  very  rare, 
yet  fights,  with  the  purpose  of  robbing  and  killing, 
are  not  entirely  unknown  even  to  this  day  among 
the  Chinese  villagers. 

Does  some  one  wonder  how  the  Chinese  can 
live  together  in  peace  in  such  a house?  They  do 
not.  They  just  quarrel.  Chinese  know  how  to 
quarrel — and  they  put  that  knowledge  to  use  quite 
often — but  they  seldom  fight. 

The  people  who  live  in  such  villages  are  usually 
related  to  each  other — brothers  and  cousins  more  or 


32 


THE  CHISESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 

less  distant ; and  often  the  land  around  the  village 
is  owned  by  the  people  in  common.  Land  thus 
owned  is  generally  divided  into  parts,  and  each 
family  takes  a part  to  work  or  several  of  them 
unite  in  working  it  one  year,  and  the  next  some 
other  of  the  villagers  join  to  work  it. 

Leng  Tso’s  master  could  not  get  people  to  join 
with  him  in  working  the  public  land,  as  he  was 
not  much  liked  in  the  village ; so  a part  of  the 
ground  was  rented  to  him  by  the  rest  of  the  peo- 
ple. His  field  was  near  the  mountain,  and  had  m 
it  a fine  spring  that  gave  out  a stream  of  clear,  cool 
water.  This  spring,  in  the  greatest  drought,  never 
became  dry,  and ’made  the  field  of  Hou  very  val- 
uable. His  crops  of  rice  never  failed,  and  he  had 
become  almost  a rich  man  among  tlie  people  of 
Thau  Pau.  Instead  of  one  set  of  rooms,  he  had 
two  in  the  large  house.  He  used  one  set,  on  the 
first  floor,  for  a stable,  ponltry-bouse,  barn  and 
storehouse,  aud  the  other  for  kitchen  and  living- 
rooms,  and  had  all  the  upper  part  for  liedrooms 

and— nothing.  „ j u- 

Hou— or  Hou  Lo,  as  his  neighbors  called  him 

—though  he  liked  riches,  was  not  exactly  a miser— 
that  1%  he  did  not  love  money  very  much  for  its 
own  sake.  He  did  not  love  anything  or  anybody 
verj^  much.  Like  some  other  people,  he  seemed 
to  have  been  born  cross,  and  became  more  aud 
more  so  every  year  that  he  lived.  Hou  just  ate  and 
slept  and  worked  and  grew  richer  and  more  surly 


LENG  TSO’S  HOME. 


33 


year  after  year  because  he  did  not  know  what  else 
to  do.  He  had  owned  another  little  slave-girl  be- 
fore he  bought  Leng  Tso.  Her  he  had  beaten  so 
much  and  treated  so  badly  that  she  died : the  peo- 
ple in  Thau  Pau  said  that  Hou  Lo  had  kille<l  her. 

Such  was  the  village,  and  such  the  master  of 
Leng  Tso.  There  Mas  nothing  pretty  in  the  vil- 
lage except  a very  large  banyan  tree  that  stood  in 
the  court  or  centre  yard.  Its  far-reaching  branches 
shadetl  a large  part  of  the  yard,  and  its  great  roots, 
in  some  places  lying  on  the  top  of  the  ground  and 
crossing  each  other  in  various  directions,  made  rus- 
tic seats  and  pretty  j)lay houses  for  the  children. 
This  tree  had  no  shoots  running*  doun  from  its 
limbs  to  the  ground  and  growing  there,  as  have 
many  banyan  trees  in  other  parts  of  the  Morld. 
The  Chinese  usually  cut  them  otf  for  fire-wo<Kl  as 
soon  as  they  come  near  the  ground.  Several,  and 
even  many,  shoots,  uhen  not  thus  cut  off,  reaching 
doMii  to  the  ground  from  the  large  branches,  take 
root,  and  seem  like  smaller  trees  M-hase  branches 
have  groMn  into  the  large  one. 

If  Thau  Pau  Mas  not  a pretty  place,  neither  was 
Leng  Tso’s  master  a good  man  unless  he  M as  asleep  ; 
and,  as  he  sle[)t  very  little,  he  took  but  little  time 
to  be  good.  Long  before  sunrise  he  M'ould  be  on 
his  field,  and  there  he  Mould  Mork  until  evening. 
He  said  that  it  made  people  lazy  to  sleep.  So,  the 
next  morning  after  Leng  Tso  had  come  to  her  neM* 
home,  Hou  Ment  into  the  little  room  M'here  she  Mas, 

3 


34 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE- GIRL. 


and  long  before  she  had  slept  enough  roused  her 
and  told  her  to  get  up  right  away.  Poor  child ! 
Disturbed  in  a dream  in  which  she  was  home  again 
with  her  mother  and  Seng  and  lau,  when  she  oj)ened 
her  eyes  she  did  not  know  where  she  was ; the  room 
was  dark  yet,  and  she  could  not  see  anything. 
Fortunately,  Hou  went  to  the  field  as  soon  as  he 
had  called  the  little  girl.  After  trying  to  think 
where  she  was,  and  in  a drowsy  voice  calling  once 
or  twice  to  her  mother,  the  little  one  fell  asleep 
again. 

Several  hours  after,  Hou  came  to  the  house. 
Finding  that  she  had  not  risen  yet,  he  went  to  her 
bed,  and,  shaking  the  child  rudely,  told  her  that  if 
she  did  not  get  up  at  once  he  would  beat  her  with 
a stick.  Leng  Tso  soon  remembered  where  she 
was  and  who  the  man  was  who  stood  scowling  at 
her.  Too  much  afraid  to  cry,  she  slowly  crept  out 
of  her  bed,  and  was  soon  ready  to  follow  Hou  to 
the  field.  Poor  thing ! she  Avas  so  frightened  by 
his  voice  and  face  that  she  did  not  know  what  to 
do  but  obey  him. 

She  was  too  small  to  work,  but  her  master 
thought  it  would  be  Avell  to  let  her  know  what  slie 
must  do  after  a while.  Because  she  did  not  get 
up  when  he  called  the  first  time,  he  made  her  do 
without  anything  to  eat  until  noon.  Then  the 
child,  hungry  and  thirsty  and  hot,  slowly  followed 
him  to  the  village.  How  good  the  tea  tasted  ! and 
liow  eagerly  she  ate  the  bowl  of  rice  and  bit  of 


LENG  TSO’S  HOME. 


35 


pork  given  her!  Wistfully  she  looked  for  more, 
but  no  more  was  given  until  Hou  had  gone  to  the 
field  ; then  his  daughter  gave  the  hungry  little  one 
another  large  bowl  of  rice. 

That  afternoon,  when  Hou  So — for  thus  Hou’s 
wife  was  called — and  her  daughter  were  taking  a 
nap,  Leng  Tso  slipped  out  of  doors  and  ran  away. 
She  meant  to  find  her  mother,  but,  not  knowing 
which  way  to  go,  slie  began  calling,  “Mother! 
mother!”  So  Chim,  the  old  woman  who  had  come 
with  her  to  the  village,  knew  the  child’s  voice  and 
went  to  bring  her  back.  She  brought  the  little 
girl  into  the  house  of  her  son. 

So  Chim’s  son  was  a poorer  man  than  Hou,  and 
had  only  one  set  of  rooms  in  the  large  house.  In 
one  of  the  lower  ones  was  kept  the  bulfalo-cow  that 
he  and  his  brother  owned  together,  and  in  the  upper 
rooms  lived  his  large  family.  Here  the  old  woman 
carried  the  frightenetl  child. 

“See!”  said  Khiau,  the  oldest  boy;  “ma”  (the 
Chinese  word  for  “ grandmother  ”)  has  brought 
another  girl  to  our  home,  but  this  is  larger  and 
much  prettier  than  the  little  baby  she  brought.  I 
wish  that  she  could  bring  such  large  ones  every 
time,  and  then  they  would  not  cry  so.” 

The  old  woman  told  the  little  boy  that  this  was 
not  a new  sister,  but  a little  girl  who  had  no  brother 
or  sister,  father  or  mother,  any  more,  and  she  wanted 
him  to  love  and  treat  her  as  his  sister. 

“Yes,  I have  a mother,  and  brothers  too,”  said 


36 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


I.cng  Tso,  “and  I want  to  go  where  they  are. 
Will  you  take  me  to  her?” 

So  Chim,  taking  the  little  girl  on  her  lap,  told 
the  grandchildren  about  Leng  Pso,  and  asked  them 
to  be  kind  to  the  little  stranger;  “For,”  said  she, 

“ I was  once  a poor  little  girl,  and  sold  away  from 
' home  to  your  grandfather  So’s  father,  to  become 
his  son’s  wife  when  I grew  up.  And  oh,  it  was  so 
hard  to  be  sold  among  strangers !” 

Khiau,  without  replying  to  his  grandmother, 
walked  up  to  the  chiid  and,  putting  his  arms 
around  her,  said,  “ I will  be  your  older  brother.” 
The  kindness  of  all  the  children  won  the  confi- 
dence of  Leng  Tso,  and  soon  she  was  jilaying  and 
laughing  hapjiily  with  them. 

When  it  was  nearly  night.  So  Chim  took  the  lit- 
tle girl  back  to  her  master.  Leng  Tso  begged  not 
to  be  left  at  the  “bad  man’s  house,”  but  to  be 
taken  to  her  mother.  Soon  after,  Hou  came  in 
from  his  work  tired,  hungry  and  cross.  In  some 
way  he  had  learned  of  Leng  Tso’s  attempt  to  run 
away,  and,  calling  her,  he  asked  where  she  had 
been. 

“ I want  to  find  mother,”  she  replied. 

“ I’ll  find  your  mother,”  replied  the  cruel  man 
as  with  his  hard  hand  he  struck  the  child  a severe 
blow.  “Do  you  mean  to  run  away  again?  If 
you  do,  I will  whip  you  half  dead.  Stop  crying, 
or  I will  do  it  now.” 

The  little  girl,  smothering  her  cries  as  best  she 


LENG  TSO’S  HOME. 


37 


could,  crept  into  a corner,  where,  with  her  head  on 
a bench,  she  lay  sobbing  until  she  fell  asleep. 

The  next  morning,  long  befoi’e  sunrise,  Hou  was 
in  the  field  at  work.  He  had  so  much  to  do  that  he 
had  forgotten  to  arouse  his  little  slave-girl,  and  Leng 
Tso  was  allowed  to  sleep  until  he  came  home  for 
his  morning  meal.  After  eating  he  took  her  with 
him,  to  make  sure  of  her  not  running  away.  There, 
on  a path  between  two  rice-fields,  he  placed  her, 
and  told  her  to  keep  tlie  birds  away  from  the  rice. 
Though  the  drought  was  severe  at  Thau  Pan  as  well 
as  in  other  jjlaces,  yet  the  many  springs  running 
from  the  mountain  gave  water  enough  to  flood 
many  of  the  rice-fields,  and  thus  prevented  a total 
failure  of  crops.  In  this  place  Leng  Tso  remained, 
though  she  soon  forgot  all  about  the  birds,  until 
Hou  called  her  to  go  home  to  dinner.  After  din- 
ner he  took  her  again  to  the  field  ; and  there,  bare- 
headed and  witli  nothing  to  shelter  her  from  the 
scorching  sun,  the  child  was  forced  to  stay  until 
night.  As  it  grew  dark  her  master  called  her  to 
follow  him  to  the  village. 

Leng  Tso  would  eat  no  supper  that  night ; she 
wanted  water  only.  ^Yhen  Hou  So  put  her  to  l)ed 
— for  tlie  mother’s  heai’t  pitied  the  little  stranger 
so  much  that  she  would  not  drive  her  to  bed  alone 
— she  noticed  that  Leng  Tso’s  hands  and  face  were 
burning  hot.  Before  going  to  bed  herself  slie  went 
to  the  little  room  again,  and  for  a long  time  watch- 
ed the  child  toss  about  in  a restless  sleep.  Again 


38 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


and  again  the  lips  would  open  and  a low  voice  say, 

“ INIother,  cold  water !” 

In  the  morning  the  child  was  almost  deliiious 
with  fever.  Her  tossing  and  moaning  touched 
even  Hou’s  heart,  or  perhaps  lie  was  afraid  that 
he  might  lose  his  slave-girl.  A Chinese  doctor 
was  called,  who  said  that  the  child  had  a fever, 
caused  by  exposure  to  the  sun.  Though  she  begged 
for  cold  water,  he  forbade  her  having  anything  to 
drink  except  a little  warm  tea.  Then  he  began 
preparing  medicines  for  driving  the  fev^er  away. 
Among  them  were  dried  snails  pounded  fine,  to 
make  her  heart  beat  slower.  When  he  learned 
that  Leng  Tso  had  lately  been  brought  from  her 
mother,  he  put  in  the  medicine  a very  small  amount 
of  tiger’s  bones,  prepared  in  the  same  way,  to  make 
the  child  brave.  His  medicines  would  certainly  cure 
in  a few  days,  he  said,  but  she  did  not  get  better. 

Every  day  So  Chim  came  in  and  sat  for  hours 
by  the  little  sufferer,  and  often  for  whole  nights  she 
was  there,  watching  and  giving  medicines  and  ten- 
derly .soothing  the  sick  child.  Every  day,  too,  she 
visited  the  village-temple  to  offer  incense  to  the 
idol  and  pray  that  it  would  heal  i.eng  Tso.  Once 
she  i>aid  a fortune-teller  to  .say  whether  the  little 
girl  would  get  better  or  not ; aiul  when  the  answer 
was  given  that  the  child  would  die,  the  old  woman’s 
heart  was  filled  with  sadness.  She  determined  to 
try  one  thing  more.  In  a city  more  than  ten  miles 
away  there  was  a large  temple,  and  in  it  an  idol 


LENG  TSO’S  HOME. 


39 


who  had  cured  very  many,  the  people  said.  To 
this  temple  So  Chini  Avent;  and,  carrying  all  the 
offerings  she  could  give,  she  laid  them  before  the 
idol  as  she  begged  the  dumb  and  lifeless  image  to 
save  the  life  of  the  child.  When  she  drew  from 
the  great  number  of  answers  prepared  beforehand 
for  those  who  worshiped  the  idol,  she  drew  one  that 
gave  an  unfavorable  answer;  and  So  Chiiu  believed 
that  Leng  Tso  must  die.  Hopeless,  she  turned 
homeward.  She  asked  herself  why  she  loved  that 
little  stranger-girl  so  much.  In  the  few  days  that 
she  had  known  the  child  she  had  learned  to  love 
her  almost  as  though  she  were  her  own.  But  when 
she  remembered  how  she  too  had  been  sold  by  her 
father,  Avhen  yet  a small  girl,  to  go  among  strangers, 
and  remembered  how  she  longed  for  home  and 
mother,  and  thought  of  that  last  parting  with  her 
mother,  she  could  not  wonder  that  she  pitied  the 
little  stranger  so  much.  And  when  she  recalled 
the  often-repeated  request  of  Leng  Tso,  “ Take 
me  to  my  mother,”  she  felt  Avilling  to  do  anything 
if  she  might  only  save  the  child’s  life  and  feel,  sure 
that  the  mother  and  little  one  would  meet  again. 
The  poor  China-woman  did  not  know  of  that  place 

“ Where  tlie  child  has  found  its  mother, 

Where  the  mother  finds  her  child  ; 

Where  dear  families  are  gathered 
That  were  scattered  on  the  wild.” 


Neither  So  Chim’s  journey  and  prayers  nor  the 


40  THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-GIRL. 

doctor’s  medicine  made  the  sick  child  any  better. 
For  nearly  three  weeks  the  fever  continued,  and 
every  one  wondered  that  she  did  not  die  j but  at 
last  the  fever  left  her,  and  Leng  Tso  began  slowly 
to  get  well.  She  was  very  weak,  and  it  was  a 
long  time  before  she  could  go  out  of  doors ; then 
Hon,  who  was  thankful  that  his  slave-girl  had  not 
died,  allowed  So  Chim  to  take  the  little  girl  for  a 
few  days  to  her  son’s  house.  During  the  sickness, 
and  especially  during  the  recovery,  Leng  Tso’s 
master  had  been  unusually  kind.  His  heart  was 
not  so  entirely  hardened  that  he  did  not  feel  sorry 
for  the  child,  nor  did  he  forget  that  it  was  his  own 
thoughtless  cruelty  in  keeping  Leng  Tso  exposed 
to  the  hot  sun  a whole  day  that  had  caused  the 
fever.  He  was  glad  to  be  able  to  give  the  little 
one  some  pleasure,  and  actually  offered  to  carry 
Leng  Tso  over  to  So  Chim’s  home ; but  the  child 
reached  her  thin  arms  up  to  the  old  woman  and 
said,  “ Please,  you  take  me.” 

Khiau,  who  was  in  the  yard,  shouted  Avhen  he 
saw  his  grandmother  come  with  Leng  Tso,  but  he 
stopped  short  when  he  saw  the  pale  face  of  the 
little  girl.  Without  saying  anything  further,  he 
followed  his  grandmother  np  stairs,  and  when  the 
child  was  comfortably  seated  w’ent  to  her  and, 
putting  his  arms  around  her,  said, 

“ My  little  sister,  I am  glad  that  you  have  come. 
I wanted  to  tell  yon  that  the  fii-st  week  you  were 
sick  I went  every  day  to  the  temiile  to  pray  the 


41 


LENG  TSO’S  HOME. 

) 

god  that  you  might  get  well ; but  when  you  grew 
worse  and  worse,  I did  not  believe  that  the  god 
knew  how  to  heal  you.  That  god  is  not  good  for 
much,  any  way.  If  I were  a man,  I could  make 
a better  one  myself.” 

“ Khiau,  Khiau,  don’t  talk  so  !”  said  his  mother. 

“ But  father  does  not  worship  the  idol,”  said  the 
boy.  “ If  the  god  were  good  for  anything,  he 
would  know  it  and  go  to  the  temple  sometimes. 
Other  men  do  not  go,  either.” 

“You  are  only  a child,  and  must  not  talk  so,” 
said  So  Chim. 

“ Perhaps  men  who  are  strong  and  know  so 
much  more  than  children  and  women  need  not 
worship  the  gods,”  said  ]\Ii,  Khiau’s  oldest  sister. 
“ But  we  need  the  gods  to  take  care  of  us : I know 
that.” 

“ I do  not  need  them,  unless  it  may  be  when 
tigers  come ; I can  take  care  of  myself  as  well  as 
our  village-god  can.  Any  boy  with  legs  and  eves 
and  hands  can  do  more  for  himself  than  an  idol, 
who  must  stay  where  he  is  placed,”  said  Khiau. 

“Children,”  answered  the  mother,  “you  must 
not  speak  ill  of  the  gods ; you  may  need  them 
some  day.  Don’t  make  them  angry  when  you  do 
not  need  them.” 

“I  mean  to  try,”  continued  Khiau,  “to  find  out 
which  is  the  strongest  god,  and  I’ll  be  his  friend 
always;  but  the  others  I will  not  worship.  I 
want  a first-class  god  for  mine.  Poor  gods  are  of 


42  THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 

no  use.  They  get  all  of  our  worship  and  food, 
and  give  nothing  back.” 

“You  must  not  talk  so;  you  are  too  young  to 
know  about  the  gods,”  said  So  Chini.  “ If  they 
were  of  no  use,  our  fathers,  who  were  wiser  than 
we,  would  have  found  it  out.” 

And  thus  the  conversation  closed. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


THE  SLAVE-GIRL  AT  WORK. 

E pass  over  four  years  of  Leiig  Tso’s  life 


since  she  was  taken  from  her  home.  In 
that  time  she  has  not  seen,  or  even  heard  from,  her 
mother  or  any  of  her  friends.  But  she  has  not 
forgotten  her  mother  or  the  home  in  which  she 
was  so  happy.  She  still  lives  at  Thau  Pan  as 
Hou’s  slave-girl.  Sometimes  she  is  almost  con- 
tented and  happy,  if  slaves  are  ever  contented  who 
were  once  free.  Sometimes,  too,  her  master  seems 
to  forget  that  she  is'  his  slave-girl,  and  treats  her 
almost  as  though  she  were  his  daughter;  but  these 
sometimes  do  not  come  often. 

She  has  grown  to  be  quite  a large  girl,  and  her 
light-brown  face,  tanned  by  going  out  in  the  sun, 
often  without  liat  or  bonnet,  appears  very  different 
from  the  pale,  almost  white,  face  of  four  years  ago. 
She  has  long  since  recovered  from  that  severe  sick- 
ness, and  is  now  as  well  and  strong  as  any  one. 
She  can  run  and  shout  and  play  as  heartily  as  any 
child  in  the  village.  Though  only  a slave-girl, 
she  is  not  without  friends  among  the  children. 


44 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-OIRL. 


All  know  that  she  will  not  always  be  a slave,  but 
some  (lay  may  be  sold  to  become  somebody’s  wife, 
and  it  may  be  the  wife  of  one  of  their  own 
friends. 

Though  as  fond  of  play  as  any  child,  Leng  Tso 
has  little  time  for  it.  Hou  has  not  forgotten  to 
work,  and  is  up  as  early  in  the  morning  as  he  dare 
go  to  the  field,  and  usually  takes  his  slave  along 
to  help  him.  We  say  “as  early  as  he  dare,”  for 
there  are  tigers  in  the  mountains  near.  The 
Chinese  are  so  superstitious  that  they  are  afraid 
to  kill  these  animals,  and  lately  more  than  one 
night-traveler  has  been  carried  off  by  them.  Hou 
cares  even  more  for  his  life  than  he  does  to  work, 
and  his  body  as  well  as  that  of  the  little  girl  gets 
many  an  extra  hour  of  rest  because  of  the  tigers. 
’U'hen  Leng  Tso’s  bare  feet  patter  along  the  path 
behind  her  master  as  he  goes  to  his  work  after  day- 
light, she  feels  almost  thankful  that  there  are  tigers 
in  the  mountain ; for  if  there  were  none,  she  would 
have  to  work  even  more  than  she  does  now. 

Part  of  her  work  is  to  drive  Hou’s  goats  out  to 
the  foot  of  the  mountain  and  watch,  as  they  eat-the 
grass  there,  that  they  do  not  stray  away  up  the 
mountain  and  get  lost  or  caught  by  tigers.  Some- 
times she  must  lead  out,  by  a rope  fastened  to  a 
ring  in  its  nose,  the  great  buffalo-cow,  to  pasture 
in  some  spot  where  the  grass  has  not  been  entirely 
dug  up. 

These  Chinese  buffaloes  are  very  different  from 


THE  SLAVE-GIRL  AT  WORK. 


45 


the  animals  in  America  called  by  the  same  name. 
They  are  larger  than  large  oxen,  and  are  very 
strong  and  heavy.  Their  color  is  a dirty  dark 
gray ; they  have  but  little  hair  on  their  tough 
skin,  and  have  horns  that  are  very  large  and 
rough  and  appear  somewhat  like  the  horns  of  some 
old  sheep.  These  buffaloes  the  Chinese  call  water- 
cows,  because  they  are  fond  of  lying  in  water,  and 
even  in  mud.  Often  they  lie  with  the  whole  body 
except  the  nose  and  head  covered  by  water.  They 
would  be  the  most  beautiful  animals  living  if  all 
others  should  die,  but  as  long  as  there  remains  one 
animal  besides  the  Chinese  buffalo  they  cannot  be 
the  prettiest.  If  not  handsome,  they  are  gentle 
and  easily  managed,  and  to  very  small  children 
is  often  given  the  charge  of  one  of  these  huge 
creatures.  The  Chinese  keep  them  more  for  the 
work  they  can  do  than  for  the  milk  they  give. 
Chinese  do  not  care  much  for  milk,  and  do  not 
use  butter  at  all.  Ploughing,  harrowing,  and 
sometimes  turning  the  very  little  machinery  the 
C'hinese  have,  are  nearly  all  the  kinds  of  work 
done  by  these  animals. 

It  was  one  of  these  great  buffaloes  that  the  little 
girl  was  obliged  to  lead  out  to  pasture  and  to 
water.  Sometimes  Hou,  when  he  had  work  for 
Leng  Tso,  would  drive  a wooden  or  an  iron  peg 
into  the  ground,  and  by  a long  rope  fasten  the 
buffalo  where  it  might  eat  the  grass  and  yet  not 
run  away  while  he  was  at  work.  To  leave  it  in 


46 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-GIRL. 


the  field  with  no  one  near  might  give  the  bold 
tigers  a chance  to  get  a large  and  cheap  dinner,  or 
liunian  thieves  might  steal  it, 

One  day,  when  Hou  had  some  business  away,  he 
told  the  little  girl  to  take  the  buffalo  to  pasture 
and  to  dig  some  grass-roots  for  fuel.  So,  with  a 
broad-brimmed  hat  on  her  head  and  a heavy  hoe 
in  one  hand  and  leading  the  buffalo  with  the  other, 
she  went  off  to  her  work.  After  fastening  the 
animal  in  a good  grassy  place,  she  began  digging 
up  the  sod  and  striking  it  on  the  handle  of  the 
hoe  to  rid  it  of  earth,  and  then  laid  the  roots  and 
grass-tops  in  a place  where  they  might  dry. 

Fuel  is  so  scarce  in  China  that  everything  which 
will  burn  is  used.  Children  very  often  dig  up  the 
sod  in  this  way,  and,  after  drying  it  in  the  sun, 
store  it  away  for  use  in  cooking. 

To  lift  the  heavy  Chinese  hoe  was  hard  work  for 
Leng  Tso,  and  she  could  not  help  wanting  to  rest 
often.  Bv  and  by  she  became  very  tired,  and  sat 
down  to  rest.  Her  little  head  soon  dropped  over 
to  one  side,  and  she  was  fast  asleep.  After  sleej)- 
inf>-  a lon<r  time  she  dreamed  that  a large  tiger  sud- 
flenly  sprang  upon  h'er  and  struck  his  sharp  claws 
deep  into  her  back.  ith  a scream  of  pain  and 
terror  she  sprang  up,  and  saw  Hou  standing  over 
her  with  a whip  ready  to  strike  her  again.  The 
sharp  stinging  from  the  blow  of  his  whip  she  had 
thought  was  caused  by  a tiger’s  claws. 

“ Sleeping,  are  you?”  said  Hou— ‘‘sleeping,  when 


THE  SLAVE-GIRL  AT  WORK. 


47 


I told  you  to  work  ! This  is  the  way  that  you  work, 
is  it,  when  I am  not  here?  It  is  afternoon  already, 
and  you  have  done  nothing  yet!  I’ll  show  you ! 
I’ll  teach  you  to  sleep  when  you  are  told  to  work !” 
and  with  each  sentence  he  struck  the  child  a blow 
harder  than  the  one  preceding  it.  In  vain  were 
her  screams.  Hou  had  caught  her  asleep  when  he 
had  told  her  to  work,  and  he  meant  to  teach  her  a 
lesson  that  she  would  not  soon  forget.  These  les- 
sons came  often.  Though  kind  sometimes,  her 
master  was  often  cruel,  and  at  times  even  brutal. 

When  Hou  thought  his  slave  had  been  punished 
enough  he  said, 

“Now  go  to  work,  and  do  not  stop  until  you 
have  filled  this  bag,  which  I have  brought,  with 
grass-roots.  See  that  you  do  before  night ; for  if 
you  do  not  have  it  full  then,  you  shall  stay  and  fill 
it  by  moonlight.  So  work  quickly  if  you  don’t  want 
tigers  to  get  you.  You  cannot  have  anything  to 
eat  until  you  come  home  with  the  bag  full  of  roots 
and  gi’ass.”  With  that  he  took  the  buffalo  and 
went  back  to  the  village. 

The  child  saw  him  go  away,  and  at  first  was 
ready  to  run  after  him  to  beg  not  to  be  left  alone 
until  the  tigers  came,  but  she  knew  that  he  would 
beat  her  the  harder  if  he  even  saw  her  idle;  so  she 
took  up  the  heavy  hoe  and  began  to  dig  the  sod 
loose.  Her  back,  shoulders  and  arms  ached  and 
smarted  so  from  the  whipping  that  she  could  hardly 
work  at  all.  Every  few  minutes  she  stopped  and 


48 


THE  CHISESE  SLAVE-OIRL. 


cried  with  pain.  Gradually  the  pain  grew  less, 
and  she  dug  all  the  harder;  for  oh  the  terrible 
thought  of  staying  out  there  at  night  when  the 
tigei*s  came!  She  could  not  bear  even  to  think  of 
it,  and  yet  could  not  keep  the  thought  of  tigers 
from  her  mind.  Her  fear  grew  so  great  that  she 
looked  around  every  minute  to  see  if  any  tigers 
were  coming. 

After  digging  as  hard  as  she  could  for  a while 
she  felt  her  hands  burn,  and  soon  they  smarted. 
She  stoppetl  to  look,  and  there  were  great  blisters 
on  them.  What  should  she  do?  The  bag  was  not 
nearly  full ; it  was  almost  night ; her  hands  were 
so  sore  that  she  could  not  work.  But  then  the 
tigers ! She  must  \vork.  But  those  hands  ! How 
could  she?  For  a moment  she  sat  down  to  think. 
Suddenly  she  started  up  with  a scream,  “ Tigers  !” 
and  began  to  run.  She  heard  light  footsteps  behind 
her,  and  felt  sure  that  it  must  be  tigei’s. 

In  a moment  the  voice  of  Khiau  called  out. 
Don’t  run;  it  is  Khiau,  and  not  tigers.”  Then, 
for  the  first  time  looking  around,  she  siiw  the  boy 
coming  aci’oss  the  field.  Her  heart  beat  so  hard 
that  she  could  hear  it  throb. 

“ Oh,  Khiau,”  said  she,  “ I am  so  glad  that  it  is 
you  ! I thought  that  it  was  a tiger,  and  was  run- 
ning away  from  it.  I am  so  afraid  that  they  will 
come  and  eat  me  u}).” 

“ It  is  not  a tiger,  but  a friend,”  Siiid  he.  “ But 
what  are  you  doing?” 


THE  SLAVE-GIRL  AT  WORK. 


49 


Leng  Tso  told  him,  and  told  him,  too,  how  her 
master  had  whipped  her. 

I wish  that  Hou  was  dead,”  said  the  boy. 
“ He  ought  to  die,  and  demons  get  him.  He 
ought  never  to  be  born  over  again,  even  if  he  were 
born  a dog.  He  is  not  so  good  as  a dog  now.” 

“ Do  not  say  so,  Khiau,”  said  the  girl ; “ he  is 
good  sometimes.” 

“Yes,  when  he  sleeps;  no  one  is  bad  then. 
Why  can  he  not  be  good  some  other  times  too?” 
“He  is,”  answered  Leng  Tso;  “it  is  only  some- 
times that  he  is  bad.  But,  Khiau,  will  you  help 
me  fill  that  bag  with  roots?” 

“Yes,  of  course  I will.  Here,”  said  the  boy, 
“give  me  the  hoe.  I’ll  dig  and  you  knock  the 
ground  olf,  and  we  will  have  that  bag  full  by  sun- 
down.” 

Before  the  sun  had  set  the  work  was  done,  and 
Khiau,  carrying  the  bag  of  roots  on  his  back  and 
tlie  hoe  in  his  hand,  followed  the  little  girl  to  the 
village.  Not  until  she  was  inside  of  the  walls  did 
her  heart  stop  its  anxious  throbbing.  How  glad 
Leng  Tso  felt  that  evening  that  she  lived  in  a luu, 
or  walled  village ! 

When  Leng  Tso  came  in  from  her  work  Hou 
said  nothing.  He  probably  felt  ashamed  of  his 
cruelty  to  the  child,  and  seemed  determined  to  treat 
her  more  kindly — until  he  became  angry  again. 
Very  early  in  the  evening  he  went  to  bed,  and 
Leng  Tso,  as  did  lion’s  wife  and  daughter,  went 

4 


50 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


out  into  the  court  to  see  the  people  and  talk.  It 
was  a bright  moonlight  night,  and  seemed  almost 
as  light  as  day.  A numl)er  of  the  children  had 
gathered  in  their  favorite  place  under  the  old  ban- 
yan tree,  and  Leng  Tso  soon  joined  them.  They 
were  gravely  talking  about  wliat  each  one  meant 
to  be. 

“ I will  be  a scholar,  and  then  I can  wear  a long 
dress  like  Jin,  the  great  teacher,”  said  one  boy. 
“ I do  not  want  to  work,  and  scholars  need  not  do 
anything.” 

“ Don’t  have  to  do  anything !”  said  another. 
“Where  do  they  get  their  rice?  They  must  earn 
it,  just  as  others  do.  If  they  do  not  work  with 
their  hands,  their  heads  and  tongues  must  work 
all  the  more.” 

“ That  is  not  work,”  said  the  first  sj>eaker. 
“ They  can  wear  nice  new  clothes,  they  do  not 
have  to  go  out  in  the  sun,  and  their  skin  is  almost 
white.  They  can  let  their  finger-nails  grow  just 
as  long  as  they  wish,  and  they  are  always  gen- 
tlemen.” 

“ I mean  to  l)e  an  emj)eror,”  said  a small  boy, 
“ and  then  I can  live  in  a palace  and  have  all  that 
I want  to  eat  and  Mear,  and  of  the  l>est,  too.” 

“ But  you  cannot  eat  garlic  and  onions  then,” 
said  his  older  brother.  “ It  would  make  an  empe- 
ror’s breath  smell  bad.” 

“ Cannot  emperors  eat  anything  they  wish  ?” 
asked  the  little  fellow. 


THE  SLAVE-GIBL  AT  WORK. 


51 


“ No,”  replied  the  other ; “ more  than  that,  they 
cannot  go  out  of  the  palace,  and  they  can  only  see 
the  number  one  great  officers.” 

“ Then  I don’t  mean  to  be  an  emperor.  I want 
to  eat  onions,”  said  the  small  boy. 

“ I wdll  be  a soldier,”  said  a larger  boy. 
“Grandfather  told  me  yesterday  of  a boy  who 
became  a great  soldier.  He  had  a large  army, 
with  which  he  marched  to  a city,  and  then  the 
people  of  the  city  gave  him  a great  deal  of  silver 
if  he  would  not  fight  them.  After  getting  their 
money  he  went  to  another  city  and  did  the  same 
thing  there,  and  got  a great  amount  of  money  there 
too.  So  he  did  to  very  many  cities,  until  he  had 
enough  money  for  himself  and  his  soldiers  for  all 
their  lives.  That  is  tlie  kind  of  soldier  I mean 
to  be.” 

“Where  will  you  get  your  army?”  was  asked. 

“ Oh,  I asked  my  grandfather  where  this  soldier 
got  his.  He  said  that  there  are  always  plenty  of 
men  ready  to  fight  or  do  anything  else  if  they 
can  only  get  a little  money.  There  will  be  men 
enough.” 

“ But  the  government  will  not  let  you  raise  an 
army.  The  officers  will  send  soldiers  to  capture 
and  behead  you.  It  would  be  rebellion  to  do  what 
you  mean  to  do.” 

“ Why,  then,  does  not  the  government  send  sol- 
diers to  put  down  other  rebellious  ?”  answered  the 
would-be  soldier.  “Every  little  while  some  men 


52 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-OIEL. 


from  'one  or  two  villages  attack  the  people  in  an- 
other, and  rob  them  too ; yet  who  punishes  them  ?” 

No  one  answered,  but  a small  boy,  as  he  crowd- 
ed closer  to  the  larger  ones,  said, 

“ I mean  to  grow  to  be  a man  soon,  and 
then,  with  a big  gun,  I will  shoot  all  of  the 
tigers  in  the  mountains.  My  mother  will  not 
be  afraid  then.  She  is  afraid  to  go  out  at  nights 
now.  I am  not  afraid,  but  I am  a boy,  and  not 
a woman.” 

“ Don’t  say  haw  ” {“  tiger  ”),  “ but  .say  toa  than 
niau”  (“large-head  cat”),  said  the  little  fellow’s 
older  sister. 

“Why?”  asked  the  child.  “They  are  haw; 
they  are  bad  too.  I mean  to  kill  them  when  I am 
a man.” 

“ ’Sh-h  ! hush  !”  whispered  his  sister.  “ Do  not 
call  them  haio  and  say  that  they  are  bad,”  she  add- 
ed, in  a louder  tone.  “ The  spirit  of  some  dead 
ones  may  be  around  and  hear  you  say  so.  They 
niav  tell  the  living  animals  what  you  said  about 
them.  You  might  then  be  eaten  up  by  some  of 
them.  Say  large-head  cats  or  mountain-thieve.s, 
aud  they  will  not  know  what  you  mean.” 

“ Do  the  spirits  of  mountain-thieves  come  around 
us  as  people’s  spirits  do?”  softly  asked  Leng  Tso. 

“ Yes,”  answered  one  of  the  older  children. 
“ But  let  us  not  talk  about  them  now.  Some  may 
be  around  us,  and  then  they  would  know  that  we 
are  talking  about  them.” 


THE  SLAVE-GIRL  AT  WORK. 


53 


“ Liong,  what  will  you  be  ?”  asked  one  of  the 
girls  of  a witty  boy  who  was  a favorite  with  all 
the  children. 

“ I do  not  know  yet  what  I will  be  in  this  life/’ 
said  he,  “but  when  I die  I will  ask  the  goddess 
not  to  let  my  spirit  go  into  another  body,  but  let 
me  be  born  a bird  instead.” 

“ A bird !”  exclaimed  one  and  another ; “ what 
for?” 

The  answer  came: 

“I  would  just  like  to  fly  up  into  the  tops  of  the 
trees  and  see  what  bad  people  were  doing;  and  if 
I saw  them  doing  very  badly,  I would  fly  off"  to 
some  tiger’s  den  and  tell  him  where  he  could  get 
a good  dinner  for  nothing  and  have  good  people 
thank  him,  too,  for  taking  it.” 

“ That  would  be  better  than  being  born  a boy,” 
said  Khiau.  “ If  you  could  get  a mountain-thief 
to  carry  off  some  people  that  I know ! I do  not 
see  why  some  people  are  allowed  to  live,  any  way. 
Why  do  not  the  demons  get  them  ?” 

“ Perhaps  they  have  moi’e  now  than  they  know 
what  to  do  with,”  answered  Liong.  “My  way 
would  get  rid  of  a good  many  without  the  help 
of  evil  ones.” 

“ Children,  children,  you  must  not  talk  so !” 
said  an  old  woman  who  had  come  to  the  company 
to  see  what  they  were  doing.  “ It  is  dangerous  to 
talk  about  the  evil  spirits.  Talk  about  the  good 
ones,  for  they  never  hurt  people.” 


54 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


“Grandmother,  do  people  get  born  right  over 
afain  when  thev  die  asked  a small  child. 

“Yes,  so  we  have  always  been  taught,  and — and 
I think  it  is  true,”  was  replied. 

“ Are  women  and  girls  born  girls,  and  men  and 
boys  born  boys,  again,  or  how?” 

“Not  always.  Good  M’omen  and  girls  are  born 
girls  again  ; and  if  very  good  they  are  born  boys 
in  the  next  life,  but  if  very  bad  they  may  be  born 
dogs  or  cats,  or  anything  else.  Good  men  are  boys 
a<rain  when  born  the  next  time,  but  those  who  are 
not  very  good  are  only  girls,  while  bad  men  become 
animals.” 

“ I know  what  Hou  Lo  will  be,”  said  Khiau,  in 
a low  tone.  “ He  will  be  a dog  who  has  no  master, 
and  everybody  will  kick  and  beat  and  throw  stones 
at  him.” 

“ Come !”  said  the  old  woman ; “ it  is  time  for 
you  all  to  go  to  bed.”  And  soon  from  the  group 
of  women  came  shrill  calls  of  “ Khiau !”  and 
“ Liono- !”  and  “ Yi !”  and  “ Xian  !”  “ come  home 

o 

and  go  to  bed !” 

Before  Leng  Tso  went  to  her  little  room  she 
told  Hou’s  wife  some  of  the  things  that  she  had 
heard,  and  asked  if  it  were  true  that  the  spirits  of 
timers  were  around  and  could  hear  what  was  said 
of  them. 

“Certainly,”  said  Hou  So;  “and  you  must 
always  be  careful  to  speak  well  of  them  when  you 
call  them  tigers,  but  if  you  speak  of  mountain- 


THE  SLAVE-GIRL  AT  WORK. 


55 


thieves  or  large-head  cats,  they  'will  think  you 
mean  thieves  or  cats.” 

“ Do  people  ever  2>ray  to  them  ?”  asked  the 
child. 

“ Xo.  They  never  do  good  to  people,  and  there 
is  no  good  to  come  from  praying  to  such  animals.” 

Leng  Tso  remembered,  however,  that  the  Chinese 
prayed  sometimes  to  evil  spirits  to  keep  from  being 
harmed  by  them,  and  so  thought  that  perhaps  it 
might  do  good  to  pray  to  the  tiger-spirits.  She 
knew  that  tigers  could  not  harm  her  in  the  vil- 
lage, and  tliere  was  no  need  of  praying  to  them 
before  she  went  to  bed ; but  she  resolved  to  pray 
to  those  spirits  the  next  time  she  went  into  the 
field  alone. 

After  the  little  girl  was  in  bed  she  thought  of 
what  Liong  had  said,  and  of  what  the  grandmother 
of  Sau  had  said  about  good  girls  being  born  boys 
in  the  next  life.  This  was  new  to  her.  She  won- 
dered if  it  were  true,  and  if  so  how  good  she  must 
be  to  be  a man,  and  if  she  were  good  enough  now. 
Thoughts  came  thick  and  fast.  How  she  wished 
now  for  a grandmother  to  whom  she  might  go  and 
ask  the  many  questions  in  her  mind ! Oh,  if  she 
might  but  see  her  mother  again ! She  would  tell 
all.  Then  came  the  thought,  Would  she  have 
the  same  mother  in  the  next  life?  Xext  followed 
the  happy  thought  that  if  born  a boy  she  need  not 
be  sold  as  a slave,  but  might  remain  at  home  with 
her  mother  and  brothers  and  father  always.  When 


56 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


the  little  thoughts  could  keep  apart  no  longer,  she 
fell  asleep  with  the  resolution  to  do  just  as  well 
as  she  could,  that  she  might  be  a boy  in  the  next 


CHAPTER  V. 


A MARRIAGE  ENGAGEMENT. 

NE  very  rainy  day,  when  even  Hou  thought 


the  storm  too  severe  to  be  in  the  field,  he  went 
to  spend  a few  hours  in  the  home  of  a neighbor, 
and  left  Leng  Tso  with  nothing  to  do.  Lian,  his 
daughter,  had  of  late  been  far  more  friendly  to 
the  slave-girl  than  at  first,  and  now  seemed  glad  of 
a chance  to  talk  to  Leng  Tso.  When  her  mother 
was  at  work  in  another  part  of  the  house,  Liau 
turned  to  the  little  girl  and  said, 

“ What  will  you  do,  Leng  Tso,  when  I go 
away  ?” 

“You  go  away?  Where?’’  asked  the  child. 

“ Yes,  I am  going  away,  never  to  come  back  to 
live  in  Thau  Pau  again.  I am  glad,  too,  for  I am 
so  tired  of  being  kept  at  home  all  of  the  time  now, 
since  I am  growing  to  be  a woman.” 

“ But  where  are  you  going?  Why  do  you  go 
away  ?”  asked  Leng  Tso. 

“ I am  going  to  live  in  An  Lam,  a village  many 
miles  away.  It  is  much  larger  than  this  place,  and 
there  I can  see  something  of  what  is  going  on 
around.” 


57 


58 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


“Will  you  tell  me  why  you  are  going  away? 
Do  your  father  aud  mother  know  it?” 

“ Know  it ! Why,  they  told  me.  They  made 
all  the  arrangements;  I only  learned  about  it  a few 
days  ago.  I have  wanted  so  much  to  tell  some  one, 
but  cannot  go  out  now  as  I did  when  a little  girl.” 
“ Tell  me  why  you  are  going  away,  will  you  ?” 
said  the  child. 

“Yes,  if  you  will  not  tell  anybody.” 

“ Not  even  Khiau  or  Liong,  or  their  sisters 
either  ?” 

“ No,  not  any  one — that  is,  not  yet.  They  will 
all  know  soon,  I suppose.” 

“ I will  not  tell,  so  please  let  me  know.” 

“ I am  to  be  married.” 

“ You  married  ? To  whom  ?” 

“ His  surname  is  Ton,  and  I think  that  mother 
said  his  other  name  is  Po.” 

“Don’t  you  know  him,  then?” 

“ No  ; how  should  I ? He  has  never  been  here, 
and  I have  not  been  away  from  the  village  since 
I was  a little  girl.” 

“ Has  he  never  seen  you,  either  ?” 

“ No.” 

“ Does  he  know  it  ?” 

“ Know  what  ?” 

“ That  you  mean  to  marry  him.” 

“ Certainly.  He  is  a man,  and  his  father  would 
ask  his  consent  before  making  all  the  arrangements. 
If  he  were  only  a boy,  or  nothing  but  a girl,  then 


A 3IABBIAGE  ENGAGE3IENT. 


59 


perhaps  his  father  would  say  no'thing  about  it  for  a 
while.” 

“ Do  you  think  that  you  will  like  him  ? I want 
to  like  my  husband  when  I am  married.” 

“ I do  not  know.  I will  if  he  is  handsome  and 
brave  and  large,  and  lets  me  do  as  I wish.” 

“ Lian,  why  do  you  marry  him  ? Why  did  you 
not  marry  somebody  nearer  home?  Then  you 
need  not  go  so  far  away  from  your  mother.” 
“Father  and  mother  say  I must,  and  mother 
says  that  one  man  is  as  good  as  another.  This 
man  keeps  a shop  in  the  village  and  has  money,  or 
his  father  has — so  the  woman  said  who  came  to  see 
about  getting  a wife  for  him.” 

“ Why  did  not  he  get  a wife  nearer  home  instead 
of  sending  so  far  away?  Is  he  not  good?” 

“ The  woman  said  that  he  wanted  a number  one 
good  wife,  and  he  or  his  father  had  heard  of  me ; 
so  she  came  to  see  if  my  father  and  mother  would 
let  me  go.” 

“ Why  did  not  he  or  his  father  come  instead  of 
sending  a woman?  Then  you  might  have  seen 
whether  or  not  you  would  like  him.  I want  to  see 
the  man  I am  going  to  have  before  I marry  him.” 

“ How  can  you,  if  some  one  makes  the  bargain 
with  my  father?  Women  must  take  the  husbands 
others  choose  for  them.” 

“ But,  Lian,  why  did  a woman  come  to  see  about 
you  ? Could  not  the  man  or  his  father  come  ?” 

“ Yes,  I suppose  so,  but  men  do  not  usually  look 


60 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


up  wives  for  themselves ; they  hire  women  or  some 
other  men  to  do  it  instead.” 

“ How  soon  are  you  going  away  ?” 

“ I do  not  know.  In  a few  months,  mother  says. 
As  soon  as  the  fortune-tellers  can  tell  when  a lucky 
day  for 'the  wedding  will  be,  then,  the  woman  said, 
they  would  send  word.  I hope  that  a very  lucky 
day  will  be  chosen,  for  I want  to  live  happier  than 
do  most  of  the  married  women  whom  I know.” 

“I  am  sorry  that  you  are  going  away  so  far,” 
said  Leng  Tso.  Though  Lian  had  not  always 
treated  her  kindly,  yet,  now'  that  she  was  soon 
going  away,  the  little  girl  really  did  feel  sad. 

A few'  evenings  after,  w'hen  work  was  all  done 
and  some  of  the  women  were  in  the  court  talking, 
Leng  Tso  heard  more  about  Lian’s  approaching 
marriage.  It  was  the  common  talk  of  the  village, 
as  such  things  are  in  other  countries  than  China. 

“Could  not  get  a wife  nearer,”  said  one,  “ because 
everybody  knew  him.  He  smokes  opium,  and  will 
soon  waste  all  of  the  little  property  he  has.  Be- 
sides, he  is  a cross,  cruel  man — as  bad  as  the  worst 
man  in  this  village;  and  that  one” — looking  at- 
Leng  Tso — “ is  the  worst  in  the  w'orld.” 

“ How  do  you  know  that  he  is  so  bad  ?”  asked 
another. 

“ My  boy’s  father’s  brother  ” (women  in  China 
speak  of  their  husbands  as  their  children’s  fathers) 
“know's  him,  and  told  us.  Besides,  the  woman 
stopped  at  our  house  when  the  bargain  was  made, 


A MARRIAGE  ENGAGEMENT. 


61 


and  told  us  about  him.  She  said  that  his  father 
had  given  her  ten  dollars  to  get  a wife  for  his  son, 
hoping  that  if  he  is  married  he  will  stop  gambling 
and  smoking  opium.  But  nothing  will  stop  him.” 
“ Does  Lian’s  mother  know  about  him  ?”  asked 
another  woman. 

“ No.  It  would  make  no  difference  if  she  did. 
The  woman  wdio  came  to  make  the  bargain  offered 
Hou  one  hundred  and  seven  dollars  for  his  daugh- 
ter. After  that  he  did  not  care  anything  about  the 
man,  or  his  daughter  either.  He  wishes  to  have 
her  married  soon.” 

“ One  hundred  and  seven  dollars !”  echoed  two 
or  three  women.  “ The  young  man’s  father  must 
have  wanted  a wife  for  his  son  if  he  would  give  so 
much.  Almost  any  one  would  let  a daughter  go 
for  half  that  sum.  Wives  are  only  worth  from 
forty  to  sixty  dollars  now.” 

“ So  they  would  if  the  man  were  a good  one ; 
but,  I tell  you.  Ton  Lim’s  son  could  not  have  my 
daughter  for  a thousand  dollars,”  said  the  woman. 
“ I would  rather  see  her  die  than  sell  her  to  be 
more  than  a slave  for  life  of  such  a man.  The 
gods  will  reckon  with  Hou  some  day.  One  hun- 
dred and  seven  dollars  will  not  seem  so  large  then.” 
Hou  said  nothing  to  Leng  T.so  about  the  ap- 
jii’oaching  marriage  of  his  daughter ; he  rarely  said 
anything,  except  to  order  her  to  her  work  or  to  find 
fault  with  her  about  it.  For  a few  days  after  he 
had  bargained  away  his  child  he  did  seem  more 


62 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


pleasant  and  scolded  very  little,  but  that  soon  wore 
off,  and  he  became  more  harsh  than  ever.  lion  So, 
Lian’s  mother,  told  Leng  Tso  one  day  that  Lian 
would  soon  go  away  to  be  married,  and  then  she 
would  have  no  daughter  at  all,  unless  the  little  girl 
could  take  her  place. 

“ I will  be  your  daughter,”  said  the  child. 
“May  I be?  I have  always  wanted  a mother  so 
much  since  I came  here.  Will  you  let  me  be  your 
little  girl  ? I will  do  what  you  tell  me.” 

“ Lian’s  father  would  not  let  me  make  you  my 
daughter.  But  I will  tell  you  what  we  will  do: 
you  may  be  my  daughter  when  we  are  alone  to- 
gether; only  do  not  let  him  know  it.” 

“ I am  so  glad  that  I may  have  a mother,  even 
though  it  be  only  for  a little  while  at  a time,”  said 
the  child.  And  then  all  the  longing  for  a mother’s 
love,  so  long  pent  up  in  the  little  heart,  burst  forth 
as  the  child  threw  her  arms  around  the  neck  of 
Hou  So;  and,  pressing  her  little  face  to  that  of  the 
new-found  mother,  she  showed  how  lonely  her 
heart  had  been,  and  how  deep  and  lasting  was  the 
yearning  for  a mother’s  love. 

Not  long  did  this  satisfied  love  of  the  little  gii’l 
last.  The  steps  of  Hou  were  heard,  and  then  his 
harsh  voice  called  to  Leng  Tso : 

“What  are  you  in  the  house  for?  Why  are  you 
not  in  the  field  at  work?” 

The  child  did  not  tell  him  that  she  had  finished 
her  work,  for  she  knew  that  he  would  only  tell  her 


A 3IAEJiIAG£  I:^^GAGB3fE^^T. 


63 


she  could  have  found  plenty  more  to  do.  To  an- 
swer him  at  all  was  to  make  him  the  more  harsh, 
and  she  silently  started  to  go  to  the  field.  But 
Hou  was  in  an  unusually  angry  mood,  and  the 
sight  of  the  child  increased  his  passion.  With  a 
stick  that  he  held  in  his  hand  he  struck  her  a heavy 
blow  upon  the  head.  With  a moan  of  ]>ain,  she 
fell,  almost  senseless,  to  the  ground.  Hou  So,  hear- 
ing the  blow  and  the  cry  of  the  child,  rushed  from 
her  room  to  see  the  little  girl  lying  apparently 
dead. 

“You  have  killed  the  child  I”  said  she. 

As  she  was  stooping  down  to  raise  the  little  girl 
up  Hou  caught  her  rudely  by  the  arm  and  said, 

“Go  back  to  your  room.  Let  my  slave  alone. 
She  is  not  dead.  See ! she  moves.  She  will  be 
well  soon.  She  deserves  to  be  killed,  the  lazy 
slave !” 

Hou  So  was  forced  to  go  back,  but  saw  that  Leng 
Tso  was  not  seriously  hurt ; the  blow  had  merely 
stunned  her. 

And  thus  the  child’s  great  joy  did  not  last : she 
was  only  a slave-girl. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


A TIGER.— THE  FUNERAL. 

OU  had  gone  away  on  business  for  a few 


days.  He  was  very  seldom  absent  for  any 
length  of  time,  but  when  he  did  go  his  wife  spent 
many  hours  in  the  homes  of  her  neighbors.  To 
be  away  when  her  husband  came  home  was  to 
receive  a severe  scolding,  if  not  a beating;  for  he, 
like  all  cowards,  was  only  too  ready  to  strike  those 
who  did  not  dare  strike  back. 

Two  or  three  days  before  the  time  for  his  return, 
when  Leng  Tso  was  in  the  field  and  Lian  busy 
with  some  embroidery,  Hou  So  went  to  spend  the 
afternoon  with  a neiglibor.  The  \veather  being 
very  warm,  instead  of  sitting  in  the  house  the 
two  women  sat  out  in  the  court.  They  were  soon 
joined  by  another  woman,  who  proposed  that  they 
take  a seat  near  the  ruined  walls,  through  which 
there  was  a breeze  and  where  it  would  be  cooler. 

They  sat  talking  there  until  the  sun  had  gone 
behind  the  mountain,  when  suddenly  one  of  the 
women,  whose  face  was  toward  the  ruins,  screamed, 
“Haw!  Tsou!  Haw!  Taou!”  (“Tiger!  Run!  Tiger! 


A TIGER.— THE  FUNERAL. 


65 


Run !”)  Before  the  women  had  time  to  escape,  or 
even  start,  a tiger  that  had  stealthily  crept  over  the 
broken  wall  made  a spring  at  Hou  So,  who  sat 
nearest,  and,  striking  its  fore-paws  on  her  shoulders, 
threw  her  to  the  ground  ; then,  with  a sharp,  fierce 
growl,  it  seized  her  with  its  teeth  and  started  to 
carry  her  over  the  wall.  The  poor  woman  shrieked 
with  pain  and  terror  and  struggled  to  escape.  But 
her  shrieks  and  struggles  wei’e  only  for  a moment. 
She  either  had  fainted  or  the  peculiar  shake  that 
tigers  and  other  cat-like  animals  give  their  victims 
had  made  her  unable  to  struggle  or  cry.  As 
swiftly  as  it  could  the  tiger  carried  its  burden 
over  the  wall  and  escaped  to  the  mountains. 

The  screams  of  the  women  soon  called  together 
all  the  people  in  the  village,  and  as  quickly  as 
possible  every  man  and  boy  that  dared  go  started 
after  the  tiger.  Armed  with  spears  and  swords 
and  clubs,  and  every  weapon  that  in  their  haste 
they  could  find,  they  hurried  over  the  broken  wall. 
The  shouts  of  the  men  and  boys,  the  barking  of 
the  dogs  with  them,  and  the  beating  of  the  gongs 
that  some  had  not  forgotten  to  take  along,  told 
those  remaining  in  the  village  how  rapidly  the 
party  were  climbing  the  mountain.  The  path  of 
the  tiger  was  only  too  plainly  shown  bv  blood- 
drops  here  and  there  on  tlie  way. 

As  the  noise  of  the  pursuers  grew  fainter  and 
fainter  in  the  distance  the  sound  of  excitement  in 
the  village  lessened  ; and  instead  of  screams  and 


()6  THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 

loud  voices,  the  people  gathered  in  groups,  and  in 
lower  but  excited  tones  talked  of  the  dreadful 
event.  Many  and  bitter  were  the  words  spoken 
against  those  who  should  have  repaired  the  wall, 
but  had  neglected  to  do  it.  Upon  the  absent  and 
unloved  Hou  were  heaped  many  evil  wishes,  as 
though  he  were  the  chief  cause  of  the  tiger’s  com- 
ing. Some  of  the  more  superstitious  and  bitter 
enemies  of  Hou  even  said  that  the  tiger  had  the 
spirit  of  one  of  his  dead  ancestors,  who  out  of 
pure  wickedness  had  come  to  carry  olF  a good  and 
innocent  woman.  Others — for  there  are  some 

always  ready  to  lay  the  blame  of  misfortunes  on 
those  who  suffer  from  them — said  that  Hou  So 
oufirht  to  have  known  better  than  to  sit  so  near  to 
the  ruined  wall  so  late  in  the  day ; she  might 
have  known  that  it  was  dangerous  to  be  there. 
They  did  not  think  that  this  was  the  first  time  a 
tiger  had  been  bold  enough  to  come  into  the  village 
at  all.  There  were  a few  of  the  most  superstitious 
who  felt  sure  that  Hou  So  had  been  very  wicked 
in  some  way.  She  had  been  guilty  of  some  great 
wrong  against  her  husband  in  his  absence,  and 
this  tiger,  whom  they  supposed  to  be  one  of  his 
ancestors,  had  come  to  take  vengeance  on  the  un- 
faithful woman. 

When  Lian  heard  the  shrieks  of  the  women  and 
the  dreadful  word  haw  shouted,  she  sprang  to  the 
door  and  barred  it  to  keep  everything  and  every- 
body out.  She  little  thought  of  her  mother  or 


A TIGER.— THE  FUNERAL. 


67 


Leng  Tso,  but  only  how  she  might  save  herself 
from  danger. 

The  screams  and  shouts  soon  brought  Leng  Tso 
from  the  field.  She  entered  the  village  just  in 
time  to  see  the  men  start  over  the  wall  and  up  the 
mountain,  and  she  knew  then  that  a tiger  had  been 
near  the  place.  Too  frightened  to  speak  to  any 
one,  she  rushed  to  her  home,  to  find  the  door 
locked.  In  vain  she  knocked  and  called  to  Hou 
So,  and  then  to  Lian,  to  let  her  in.  In  terrible 
fear  lest  a tiger  should  come  while  she  was  with- 
out, she  pleaded  most  piteously  to  be  admitted.  It 
was  not  a tiger,  she  said,  nor  a stranger,  but  only 
Leng  Tso,  the  little  slave-girl,  who  begged  to  be 
let  in  the  house. 

Lian  at  length  carefully  unbarred  the  door  and 
opened  it  just  enough  to  admit  the  child,  and  then 
hurriedly  closed  and  barred  it  again.  Neither  of 
them  knew  the  cause  of  the  excitement  in  the  vil- 
lage except  as  that  one  dreadful  word  haw  told, 
nor  did  they  dare  go  out  to  learn  more. 

“Where  is  Hou  So?”  asked  Leng  Tso  of  Lian. 

Both  thought  that  she,  afraid  like  themselves, 
was  safely  locked  in  somewhere,  and  when  the 
danger  was  over  would  come  back.  A long  time 
they  waited  for  her  return,  and  not  until  night 
had  come  did  any  one  rap  at  the  door. 

But  we  will  follow  the  pursuers.  After  going 
a great  distance,  and  hardly  stopping  their  noise 
for  a moment,  the  foremost  of  the  party  gave  a 


68 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-GIRL. 


number  of  most  terrible  shrieks  and  then  were 
silent;  they  stood  still  and  waited  for  the  others 
to  come  up.  Each  one  as  he  came  to  them  stopped 
and  was  silent.  They  had  found  Hou  So. 

The  tiger,  unable  to  go  very  fast  with  its  heavy 
burden,  had  often  been  forced  to  lay  it  down  and 
rest.  While  resting  in  this  way  the  party  had 
come  in  sight,  and  their  yells  and  shrieks  had  so 
frightened  the  beast  that  it  left  its  victim  and 
slunk  away  out  of  sight. 

They  had  found  the  poor  woman,  but  she  did 
not  speak ; she  did  not  notice  them ; she  did  not 
move;  she  did  not  breathe.  Hou  So  was  dead! 
With  groans  of  horror  the  men  took  up  the  body 
and  hastily  returned  to  the  village,  lest  darkness 
should  overtake  them  and  others  become  the  vic- 
tims of  tigers. 

It  was  night  when  they  entered  Thau  Pau.  The 
frightened  people,  not  daring  to  stay  outside,  were 
waiting  with  almost  breathless  anxiety  behind  their 
barred  doors  for  the  return  of  the  men.  When  the 
sound  of  the  gongs  told  that  the  party  were  inside 
of  the  walls,  from  many  a door  came  the  terrified 
people  with  lanterns  and  torches  to  learn  if  Hou 
So  had  been  found.  When  the  torches  lit  up  the 
pale  face  no  words  were  spoken ; each  could  read 
the  sad  story.  Silently  the  procession  sought  the 
home  of  the  dead  woman.  In  answer  to  the  re- 
peated knock,  Lian  and  Long  Tso  slowly  unbarred 
the  door.  The  light  of  the  torches  dazzled  their 


A TIGER.— THE  EUNERAL. 


69 


eves,  and  for  a moment  the  girls  were  bewildered  ; 
but  as  they  became  able  to  look  they  saw  that  it 
was  Hou  So  whom  the  men  were  gently  bearing 
through  the  door. 

With  a wild  scream,  “ She  is  dead  ! my  mother ! 
my  loved  mother  1”  Lian  would  have  thrown  her- 
self upon  the  form  of  the  dead  woman ; but  some 
women  gently  yet  firmly  led  her  away,  that  she 
might  wait  until  the  first  burst  of  her  grief  was 
past  before  she  again  looked  upon  the  dead.  They 
thought  of  the  grief  of  Lian,  but  none  noticed 
that  of  the  little  slave-girl. 

When  the  child  knew  that  Hou  So  was  dead, 
with  a low  cry  that  seemed  the  last  breathing  of 
hope’s  life  she  murmured, 

“ My  new  mother  is  dead,  dead ! Xo  one  to 
love,  none  to  love  me  now ! Only  a slave-girl ! 
No  heart ! it  is  dead !” 

There  were  no  loud  cries,  not  even  tears ; and 
those  who  noticed  the  child  little  thought  that 
there  was  another  death  there — a death  of  love  in 
the  heart  of  the  slave-girl.  There  is  a grief  so  deep 
that  no  cry  can  be  heard  from  it,  and  no  tear  can 
rise  from  its  fathomless  depths.  Thev  in  whose 
souls,  unknown  to  others,  there  flows  a silent  river 
of  love  bearing  all  their  hopes,  when  thev  have 
felt  that  current  stayed,  frozen  to  its  depths  by  the 
chill  of  death, — then  they,  and  only  they,  can  un- 
derstand the  grief  that  has  no  tears  and  utters  not 
in  words  its  loss,  but  in  silence  and  solitude,  amid 


70 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVHGIEL. 


gloom  and  shadow,  hides  the  frozen  stream  that 
never  flows,  never  melts,  again. 

Since  Hon  So  had  called  Long  Tso  “daughter” 
a new  life  had  come  to  the  heart  of  the  child  ; and 
now  that  thus  soon  and  suddenly  she  had  lost  that 
love  for  which  during  the  years  of  slavery  her 
young  heart  had  craved,  it  seemed  as  though  she 
had  lost  her  all.  There  might  be  other  friends  to 
love  her,  but  among  them  all  there  was  no  mother. 
The  present  was  all  Leng  Tso  knew,  and  all  of 
which  she  thought.  She  knew  not  of  another  and 
a better  life,  nor  did  she  know  of  a meeting  with 
those  who  through  death  pass  on  before  to  a world 
that  hath  no  death  or  sorrow.  No,  she  was  a hea- 
then, and  there  was  no  heaven  for  her,  no  Jesus, 
no  meeting  those  whom  she  had  lost  here. 

To  her  the  future  was  dark.  All  that  she  knew 
of  the  soul  after  death  was  the  little  that  she  had 
heard  others  say  about  its  going  into  other  bodies 
and  living  over  again.  She  did  not  know,  because 
there  was  no  one  to  tell  her. 

A long  night  to  the  two  girls  was  that  which 
followed.  Although  kind  friends  stiiyed  with 
them'  yet  these  could  do  little  to'i  comfort  the 
young  mournei’s.  Some  of  them  were  in  the 
room  with  Lian,  while  others  were  preparing  the 
body  for  burial  and  arranging  for  the-  funeral 
ceremonies.  All  thought  of  the  sorrow  of  the 
daughter,  but  few  gave  a thought  to  the  bereave- 
ment of  Leng  Tso. 


A TIGER.— THE  FUNERAL. 


71 


Lian  knew  that,  according  to  Chinese  custom, 
she  must  make  a great  lamentation  for  her  mother, 
and  yet  she  knew  that  the  people  regarded  death 
caused  by  a tiger  as  a specially  terrible  calamity — 
one  too  awful  for  lamentation ; so  she  did  not  know 
in  what  way  to  show  her  grief.  Her  own  dread 
of  tigers  made  her  fear  even  to  speak  of  the  cause 
of  her  mother’s  death,  lest  the  spirit  of  one  of  the 
dreaded  beasts  should  hear,  and  some  day  take 
vengeance  on  her.  Yet  if  she  were  silent,  the 
people  around  her  would  say  that  she  did  not  love 
her  mother.  Her  sorrow  was  not  so  great  but  that 
she  could  think  of  all  these  things,  and  what  to  do 
she  did  not  know.  Thus,  between  times  of  silence 
and  outbursts  of  crying — all  the  more  violent  be- 
cause of  that  silence — she  saw  the  night  slowly  pass 
away.  It  would  be  unjust  to  Lian  to  say  that  she 
did  not  love  her  mother,  yet  hers  was  a selfish  love. 
She  loved  her  mother  more  for  what  she  did  than 
for  what  she  was. 

But  it  was  not  thus  with  the  slave-girl.  Her 
heart  had  been  given  to  Hou  So.  It  was  the 
child’s  nature  to  love,  and  she  only  need  know 
that  any  one  cared  for  her  to  give  back  all  the 
love  of  her  lonely  heart.  To  be  a slave  changes 
no  one’s  soul.  Unnoticed  by  the  friends  in  the 
house,  the  little  girl  quietly  crept  to  her  dark  room. 
Thei'e,  throwing  herself  upon  the  bed,  she  waited 
with  sleepless  and  tearless  eyes  for  morning.  Her 
grief  was  too  sad  for  words,  too  deep  for  tears. 


72 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


All  through  the  night  she  uttered  the  low  moaning 
cry,  “ Oh,  mother,  mother !”  No  one  heai’d  her, 
and  all  thought  that  the  slave-girl  was  asleep. 

While  the  women  were  preparing  for  the  funeral 
of  the  dead  woman  they  did  not  forget  what  they 
supposed  was  the  present  need  of  her  separated 
spirit.  About  the  body  was  placed  a number  of 
candles,  burning  to  light  the  soul  in  the  darkness 
of  the  spirit-world.  Food  and  tea  were  also  pro- 
vided, as  it  was  thought  that  the  soul  would  be 
hungry  and  thirsty,  and,  being  so  newly  arrived  in 
the  world  of  spirits,  it  would  not  know  where  to  go 
to  get  its  wants  supplied. 

With  the  morning  light  the  people  began  the 
ceremonies  that  in  the  darkness  they  dared  not  un- 
dertake. Before  the  door  in  the  court  a small 
bamboo  frame  covered  with  bright-colored  paper 
and  made  to  re}>resent  a house  was  placed,  and  in 
or  beside  it  was  laid  a variety  of  pictures  on  paper 
of  household  articles  and  almost  everything  needed 
by  people.  Pictures  of  shoes,  stockings,  dresses, 
combs,  brushes,  chairs,  tables,  boAvls,  dishes,  fur- 
naces— in  fact,  of  everything  useful — were  there. 
When  all  were  prepared  the  paper  house  and  these 
paper  articles  were  burned.  The  people  supposed 
these  things  would  become  real  in  the  spirit-world 
— the  house  a real  house,  and  the  others  real  shoes, 
stockings,  dresses  and  chairs,  for  the  use  of  Hou 
So’s  soul. 

As  soon  as  a coffin  could  be  made  the  body. 


A TIGER— THE  FUNERAL. 


73 


clothed  in  a number  of  dresses,  was  placed  into  it, 
and  the  lid  was  put  on  and  sealed  with  a kind  of 
cement.  This  cement  is  used  to  make  the  coffins 
air-tight.  Often  bodies  are  kept  thus  in  China 
for  many  days,  and  even  years,  before  burial ; but, 
as  a tiger  had  caused  the  death  of  Hou  So,  the 
people  were  afraid  to  keep  her  body,  and  deter- 
mined to  bury  it  as  soon  as  possible.  None  were 
willing  to  wait  for  the  return  of  Hou,  and  some 
even  seemed  to  take  a delight  in  the  thought  that 
he  would  return  to  find  his  wife  dead  and  buried. 
So  a lucky  spot  was  selected,  a grave  quickly  dug, 
and  early  in  the  afternoon  the  people  of  the  vil- 
lage gathered  to  follow  the  body  to  the  grave. 

Though  Hou  So  had  several  relatives  in  the 
village,  and  all  the  people  were  her  friends,  yet  so 
great  was  the  dread  of  tigers  that  none  were  will- 
ing to  dress  in  mourning.  They  were  afraid  that 
this  wmuld  show  to  any  tiger-spirit  that  might  be 
near  that  they  were  friends  of  the  dead  woman,  and 
thus  the  hate  of  these  animals  would  be  drawn 
toward  them.  Lian  alone  wore  the  usual  mourn- 
ing-dress of  China.  This  was  a long,  loose-fittin«; 

O o’  O 

robe  of  coai*se  light-gray  or  dusky-white  sackcloth. 
It  was  open  in  front,  and  so  long  that  it  reached 
down  almost  to  the  ground ; it  had  sleeves,  and 
her  head  was  covered  by  a hood  that  almost  hid 
the  face. 

When  Leng  Tso  saw  how  Lian  was  dressed,  she 
bogged  one  of  the  women  that  she  too  might  wear 


74 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIBL. 


mourning.  The  woman  kindly  told  her  that  it 
would  not  be  proper  for  her  to  be  dressed  in 
mourning,  as  Hou  So  was  only  her  mistress,  and 
not  a relative. 

“But,”  replied  the  child,  “she  said  that  she 
would  be  my  mother,  and  she  was  my  adopted  * 
mother  before  she  died.  Please  let  me  show  that 
I loved  her.” 

So  Chini  led  Leng  Tso  away  from  the  rest  and 
whispered  that  the  tigers  might  get  her  too  if  she 
wore  mourning. 

“ I do  not  care,”  answered  the  little  girl ; “ I 
loved  my  new  mother  more  than  I fear  tigers.” 

So  Chim’s  kind  heart  pitied  the  child,  and  she 
would  gladly  have  made  a mourning-dress  for 
Leng  Tso,  but  the  people  were  unwilling  to  wait 
longer  for  the  funeral.  As  they  were  getting  ready 
to  go  to  the  grave  the  kind  old  woman  took  a 
piece  of  sackcloth,  and,  folding  it  in  the  shape  of 
a mourning-hood,  placed  it  upon  the  head  of  the 
child. 

When  all  was  ready  two  men  put  a long  pole 
through  two  ropes  that  were  around  the  coffin,  and, 
each  taking  an  end  of  the  pole  on  his  shoulder, 
they  started  for  the  burial-place.  Without  any 

* It  is  no  uncommon  thing  in  China  for  children  to  adopt 
parents,  as  well  as  for  parents  to  adopt  children.  Sometimes 
those  who  have  parents  living  adopt  others  instead,  and  call 
them  “father”  and  “mother.”  Such  children  are  usually 
grown,  and  have  a right  to  leave  their  own  parents. 


A TIGER.— THE  FUNERAL. 


75 


further  ceremony,  and  without  music  or  the  usual 
lamentations,  many  of  the  people,  with  Lian  and 
Leng  Tso,  followed  the  body  to  the  grave.  This 
was  only  about  two  feet  deep,  and  was  lined 
with  cement.  The  coffin  was  hastily  lowered  to 
its  close-fitting  grave,  and  then  all  except  Lian 
stepped  back  to  give  her  an  opjiortunity  to  wor- 
ship the  spirit  of  her  mother,  now  supposed  to 
have  come  back  to  the  resting-place  of  the  body. 
With  sobs  and  moans  the  afflicted  daughter  slowly 
approached  the  grave ; and  bowing  first,  and  then 
kneeling,  she  in  silence  woi’shiped  the  unseen  spirit 
of  her  mother.  Three  times  she  arose  and  went 
back  nearly  to  the  rest  of  the  comj)any,  and  then 
again  returned  to  perform  the  same  ceremony. 
When  she  had  finished,  and  before  the  men  had 
begun  to  close  the  grave,  Leng  Tso  sprang  forward, 
and,  falling  on  her  knees  at  the  foot  of  the  grave, 
cried  piteously, 

“ Mother,  my  mother ! my  heart  is  with  you, 
and  they  will  bury  it  in  your  grave ! I am  alone ! 
alone ! alone  !” 

Then^  for  the  first  time  in  her  sorrow,  tears 
began  to  fall,  and  her  sobs  choked  her  words.  So 
Chim,  in  a kind  motherly  way,  raised  the  child, 
and,  putting  her  arms  about  her,  said, 

“I  will  be. your  mother;  love  me.” 

Gently  the  good  old  woman  led  the  little  girl 
back  to  the  village  and  to  her  own  home.  Other 
kind  friends  took  Lian  to  their  home  to  stay  until 


76 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


her  father’s  return.  After  the  others  had  left  the 
burial-place  a few  remained  to  close  the  grave  and 
to  cover  it  over  with  cement. 

And  thus  they  buried  Hou  So. 


r 


% 


CHAPTER  VII. 


INTO  DARKNESS. 


DAY  or  two  after  the  funeral,  and  before 


Hou  had  come  back,  So  Chim,  her  grand- 
children and  Leng  Tso  were  sitting  under  tlie  ban- 
yan tree  in  the  court.  The  broken  wall  had  been 
partly  repaired,  and  they  felt  safe  from  tigers-.  All 
had  been  trying  to  comfort  and  amuse  the  little 
mourner.  It  was  hard  for  Leng  Tso  to  forget  her 
adopted  mother,  and  harder  still  to  keep  back  the 
tears  when  she  talked  of  Hou  So. 

’ “Tell  me,”  said  the  child  to  So  Chim,  “will  I 
ever  see  my  new  mother  again?”  She  called  Hou 
So  her  “new  mother,”  though  she  had  forgotten 
much  about  her  real  mother,  and  did  not  often 
speak  of  her  at  all. 

“I  do  not  know,”  answered  the  old  woman. 
“ Perhaps  you  may.  Many  things  happen  that  we 
cannot  tell  beforehand.” 

“I  want  so  much  to  see  her.  Why  must  she  be 
buried  ? If  they  had  not  put  her  into  the  ground, 
she  might  have  been  made  alive  again  and  been  my 


77 


78 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


mother  yet.  Will  I ever  see  her  again?  Do  peo- 
ple ever  get  alive  and  come  out  of  the  grave  again  ?” 
asked  the  little  girl. 

“No;  they  turn  to  dust,  and  that  is  the  last  of 
the  body.  But  it  was  not  Hon  So  who  was  buried. 
It  was  only  her  body — the  clothes  of  her  soul. 
Her  spirit  is  alive.  That  did  not  die.” 

“Where  is  her  spirit?  What  became  of  it  when 
she  died?”  inquired  Leng  Tso. 

“That,”  replied  So  Chim,  “went  away  into  the 
darkness  of  the  spirit-world.  It  lives  there.” 

“ But,  grandmother,”  said  Khiau,  “why,  then, 
did  Lian  worship  her  spirit  at  the  grave,  and  why 
did  the  men  bring  home  the  tablet  from  the  grave 
and  put  it  into  Hou’s  home?  They  said  that  her 
spirit  was  in  the  tablet.” 

“ It  was,  my  boy,”  said  she.  “ I cannot  tell  you 
exactly  how  it  is.  None  of  us  know  all  about  the 
spirits.  It  is  dark  to  them  where  they  are;  and 
how  much  darker,  then,  is  it  to  us,  w'ho  have  only 
bodily  eyes  with  which  to  see!  Every  one  of  us 
in  this  life  has  more  than  one  spirit.  How  many 
we  have  I do  not  know.  One,  as  soon  as  the  body 
dies,  goes  off  into  the  darkness;  another  stays  near 
the  body,  perhaps  to  take  care  of  it,  and  when  it  is 
buried  stays  at  the  grave;  and  another  goes  into 
the  tablet.  So  I think  that  w'e  have  as  many  as 
three  spirits — one  to  go  to  the  spirit-world,  another 
to  stay  at  the  grave,  and  the  third  to  enter  the 
tablet.” 


INTO  DARKNESS. 


79 


“ What  if  there  be  no  tablet  made  and  taken  to 
the  grave?”  asked  Khiau. 

“ I do  not  know.  Perhaps  that  spirit  is  born  in 
another  body,”  answered  the  grandmother. 

“ Is  it  true,  grandmother,”  asked  the  boy,  “ that 
spirits  are  born  over  and  over  and  over,  and  do  not 
stop  at  all,  just  like  a stone  rolling  down  a hill 
that  has  no  bottom?” 

“ So  we  are  taught.” 

“ I wonder,”  said  Khiau,  “ what  my  name  was, 
and  whose  boy  I was,  and  where  I lived,  the  last 
time  I was  born  before  this?  I have  forgotten  it 
all.  What  kind  of  a boy  shall  I be  the  next  time, 
and  where  shall  I live? — Would  it  not  be  strange, 
Leng  Tso,  if  I should  be  my  uncle’s  boy  then? 
Would  I call  him  uncle  or  father?” 

“Maybe  you  will  be  born  Hou’s  boy,”  said 
Niau,  a younger  brother  of  Khiau. 

“You  be  still!  I will  not  be  Hou’s  boy.  I 
would  rather  not  be  born  at  all,”  said  Khiau. 

“How  can  you  help  yourself?”  asked  Mi,  Khiau’s 
oldest  sister. 

“ I will  be  good  liere,  and  when  I die  will  go 
right  to  Mother”  (the  Chinese  goddess  of  children), 
“ and  beg  her  to  let  me  be  born  a good  man’s  sou. 
Hou  is  too  bad  to  be  born  at  all,  unless  he  be  a pig 
or  a dog.” 

“ What  do  the  spirits  do  in  the  spirit-world  ?” 
asked  Leng  Tso. 

So  Chim  answered. 


80 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-GIRL. 


“I  do  not  know.  Very  likely  they  do  much  as 
people  do  in  this  world.  They  eat  and  drink  and 
sleep  and  work,  and  do  almost  everything  that  they 
did  here.” 

“Do  they  work?”  asked  Niau.  “If  they  do,  I 
would  rather  be  the  spirit  that  lives  in  the  tablet ; 
that  has  easy  times.” 

“Now,  grandmother,”  said  Kliiau,  “how  can 
spirits  eat  and  drink,  and  do  other  things?  They 
leave  their  mouths  and  hands  in  the  grave.  They 
must  have  mouths  and  hands  to  drink  and  eat  and 
work  with.” 

“They  have  spirit-mouths  and  hands,  my  boy. 
Every  part  of  us  has  its  spirit,  or  more  than  one 
spirit;  so  spirits  are  like  us,  only  we  cannot  see  or 
feel  them.” 

“ But  if  they  eat  food,”  continued  Khiau,  “ how 
can  they  keep  it  in  their  stomachs?  It  would  fall 
right  through  to  the  ground.  If  spirits  can  go 
through  things,  what  hinders  things  going  through 
spirits?  How  can  they  hold  fast  to  anything? 
How  can  they  work?  I would  like  to  see  a bowl 
of  rice  eaten  by  a spirit.  I could  see  the  rice  in 
the  spirit,  if  not  the  spirit  itself.  It  would  be 
fun  to  see  a hoe  working  if  a spirit  had  hold 
of  it.  We  would  think  it  a number  one  ffood 
hoe.” 

“ i\Iy  boy,”  said  the  grandmother,  “ you  must  not 
make  fuii  of  the  spirits.  They  may  do  you  a great 
deal  of  harm,  as  they  often  do  much  good.  I will 


INTO  DARKNESS. 


81 


tell  you  more  about  spirits.  Not  only  do  people 
and  animals  have  souls,  but  trees  and  stones  and 
hoes  and  food  and  water;  in  fact,  everything  has 
a spirit.  The  spirits  of  the  dead  eat  the  spirit  of 
the  food,  they  drink  the  spirit  of  the  water,  they 
use  the  spirit  of  the  hoe  and  of  other  things.  The 
spirit-world  is  like  this  one,  onl}"  everything  is 
spirit,  and  not  body,  there.  We  could  not  feel  or 
see  anything,  but  spirits  can.” 

“ Grandmother,”  said  Khiau,  “ we  have  spirits — 
three,  you  say — in  us  ; why  can  we  not  do  as  well 
with  three  spirits  and  one  body  as  we  could  with 
one  spirit  alone?” 

“ We  are  like  a man  shut  up  in  a tight  box. 
He  can  see  and  feel  nothing  but  the  box.  So  our 
bodies  are  like  a box;  they  shut  the  spirits  up  and 
hide  them.” 

“ Will  our  spirits  know  others  in  the  world  of 
.spirits?”  asked  Leng  Tso.  “Shall  I know  my 
new  mother  or  my  old  one  if  I see  her  there?” 

“ I do  not  know,”  answered  So  Chim. 

“ Perhaps  they  will  have  gone  back  to  be  born 
into  other  bodies,”  suggested  Khiau. 

“ And  then  I cannot  see  them.  Perhaps  I shall 
never  see  them  again.  Oh,  I do  not  want  to  die! 
It  is  worse  in  the  spirit-world  than  it  is  here. — 
Who  makes  us  die?”  asked  the  little  girl  of  the 
old  woman. 

“ I do  not  know.  Sometimes  people  do,  and 
sometimes  I suppose  that  the  bad  spirits  do.  They 

fi 


82 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-OIRL. 


can  go  anywhere  sometimes,  and  they  do  many  evil 
things.” 

“ Is  there  no  one  who  can  stop  them  and  Iceep 
them  away  from  us  ?”  asked  Leng  Tso.  “ I am 
afraid  they  may  kill  me  as  the  tiger  did  my  new 
mother.  And  walls  will  not  keep  them  out.” 

“ Yes,”  answered  So  Chim,  “ the  good  spirits  can, 
and  often  the  gods  do.  But  some  of  the  gods  are 
too  busy  to  care  for  everybody,  and  others  are  asleep 
or  do  not  care  to  trouble  themselves  with  us.  The 
good  spirits  have  other  things  to  do  too.” 

“ What,  then,  can  we  do  to  keep  the  evil  ones 
away  ?” 

“ The  best  way  is  to  pray  to  them  and  offer  them 
food  and  other  good  things.  Treat  them  well,  and 
they  will  not  harm  you.” 

“Grandmother,  how  do  we  know  about  spirits?” 
asked  Khiau. 

“ Our  fathers  and  mothers  taught  us,  and  they 
learned  from  their  parents,  and  so  on  back.” 

“ But  who  taught  the  first  one  ?”  asked  the  boy. 

“ I do  not  know.  Perhaps  the  gods  did,  and 
perhaps  the  people  learned  one  thing  after  another, 
until  we  know  all  that  those  who  were  before  us 
have  found  out.” 

“Are  you  sure  that  is  all  true?”  inquired 
Khiau. 

“True!”  said  the  old  woman;  “certainly  it  is. 
Our  fathers  were  wise — wiser  than  we — and  they 
must  have  had  good  reason  to  believe  it.” 


INTO  DARKNESS. 


83 


“ I wish  it  were  not  true,”  said  the  boy.  “ I 
don’t  want  to  have  bad  spii’its  all  the  time  trying 
to  harm  me,  and  I don’t  want  to  be  born  over  and 
over  and  have  my  spirits  separated  and  scattered 
about.  When  we  have  been  born  very  many  times, 
if  only  one  of  our  spirits  is  born  over — and  it 
must  be  so,  for  one  stays  in  the  tablet  for  very 
many  years,  and  another  for  a very  long  time  at 
the  grave — there  will  be  so  many  spirits  of  us  that 
we  shall  not  know  where  we  ai*e  at  all.  We  shall 
be  scattered  all  to  nothing.” 

“ Is  it  better  to  pray  to  the  good  or  the  bad  spir- 
its?” asked  Leng  Tso. 

“ Pray  to  them  both,  my  child,”  answered  So 
Chim.  “Get  all  the  good  you  can  from  all,  and 
try  to  keep  friends  with  them  all.  Even  the  spirits 
of  good  people  grow  angry  and  may  injure  you. 
People  are  the  same  in  the  spirit-world  that  they 
are  here.  Some  are  always  good  and  some  always 
bad,  while  others  are  good  or  bad,  just  as  it 
happens,  and  you  must  do  what  you  can  to  keep 
them  all  well-disposed  toward  you.” 

“ Do  the  good  and  bad  spirits  all  live  together  ?” 
iiKpiired  the  little  girl. 

“ Oh  no.  The  bad  go  down  to  the  place  of  pun- 
ishment, and  are  shut  up  there  the  whole  year 
round,  except  one  month ; then  they  are  let  out  to 
rest.  But  at  the  end  of  that  month  all  must  go 
back  and  be  locked  up  again.  Sometimes  some 
hide  away,  and  they  are  then  left  out  until  the  gates 


84 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


are  shut.  These  stay  out  for  a year,  and  trouble 
tlie  people  very  much.” 

“ Who  takes  care  of  these  bad  spirits?  who 
shuts  them  up  and  who  lets  them  out  ?”  asked 
Khiau.  “ They  cannot  be  very  good  keepers,  I 
think.” 

“ The  gods  keep  watch  over  the  bad  spirits. 
Perhaps  they  leave  some  out  to  punish  bad  peo- 
ple,” answered  So  Chim. 

“ When  Hou  goes  down  there,  I hope  that  they 
will  watch  him  very  closely.  To  have  him  out  one 
month  would  be  bad  enough ; but  if  he  should  be 
left  out  a whole  year,  there  would  be  no  money  left 
in  this  world  if  he  could  find  it,  and  hardly  any 
good  people  left  alive  to  want  it.” 

“ Khiau,  Khiau,”  said  the  grandmother,  “ you 
must  not  talk  so ! If  he  is  bad,  you  are  making 
yourself  like  him  by  talking  badly.” 

“Who  takes  care  of  the  good  spirits?”  asked 
Leng  Tso. 

“ I do  not  know.  Perhaps  some  of  the  gods,  for 
they  are  good.” 

“ The  spirits  do  not  need  any  one  to  take  care  of 
them,”  said  Khiau,  “ if  they  are  good.” 

“ If  there  is  a bad  place  for  the  wicked,  is  there 
no  good  one  for  the  spirits  of  good  people  like  my 
new  mother?”  asked  Leng  Iso. 

“ I do  not  know.  Our  fathers  taught  us  that 
there  is  a bad  place  for  the  wicked,  and  warned  us 
to  escape  from  it  by  doing  right  deeds ; and  they 


INTO  DARKNESS. 


85 


told  us  that  if  we  are  good  heaven  will  reward  us. 
But  further  than  this  we  do  not  know.” 

“Where  is  heaven,  and  what  is  it?”  questioned 
Leng  Tso. 

“ I do  not  know,”  said  So  Chira,  “ only  this  : 
heaven  is  above  and  out  of  our  sight,  and  it  is  a 
good  place.” 

“ Then  I know  that  my  new  mother  is  there. 
She  was  good,  and  would  go  to  a good  place  if 
there  were  any.” 

So  Chim  and  Leng  Tso  stayed  under  the  banyan 
tree  after  the  children  had  gone  away.  When  they 
were  alone  the  little  girl  looked  up  into  the  old 
woman’s  face  and  asked, 

“May  I call  you  grandmother,  as  Khiau  does? 
No  one  will  love  me  now  unless  you  and  Khiau 
do.  You  said  that  you  would  be  my  mother;  will 
you  be  my  grandmother,  and  love  me  as  you  do 
Khiau?”  ' 

“ Yes,”  said  the  old  woman  as  she  drew  the 
child  close  to  her;  “you  shall  be  my  grandchild 
too.  An  old  woman’s  heart  has  room  for  many.” 

“You  told  us  that  my  new  mother’s  spirit  is 
not  dead ; can  I think  of  her  as  my  mother 
yet  ?”  asked  Leng  Tso.  “ I want  a mother  so 
much !” 

“Yes,”  replied  So  Chim;  “her  spirit  loves  you 
and  watches  over  you  more  than  when  she  was 
alive.” 

“ But  I cannot  see  or  hear  or  feel  her,”  said  the 


86  THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIBL. 

child.  “ I want  to  talk  to  my  mother,  and  want 
her  to  talk  to  me.” 

“ You  can  talk  to  her.” 

“ How?” 

“Her  spirit  is  in  the  tablet  in  the  house;  her 
spirit  is  at  the  grave  too.  You  can  talk  to  her 
spirit  in  each  place.” 

“But  I want  to  do  something  for  my  mother 
to  let  her  know  that  I love  her,”  answered  the 
child. 

“ So  you  can,  and  should.  Every  day  you  ought 
to  burn  incense  before  her  tablet  and  worship  her 
spirit ; and  then,  too,  you  should  go  to  her  grave 
at  the  weeping-season  and  mourn  for  her,  and  offer 
food,  incense,  paper  money  and  other  things  for 
her  use  in  the  spirit- world.” 

“Will  she  get  the  things  that  I offer?  Will 
not  people  steal  them?” 

“ No  matter  if  they  do  steal  them ; they  cannot 
steal  the  spirits  of  the  things,  she  will  get  those. 
She  will  need  food,  clothing  and  other  things  until 
she  gets  acquainted  and  can  support  herself  in  the 
spirit-woidd.” 

“ Are  paper  things  as  good  as  real  ones  to  put  at 
her  grave?” 

“ Yes,  if  you  get  those  that  have  the  spirit  of 
the  real  in  them.  The  spirits  will  not  know  any 
better.” 

“ But  I do  not  wish  to  deceive  my  new  mother. 
I want  to  give  her  good  things.” 


ISTO  DARKNESS. 


87 


“ It  does  not  matter  about  the  things  themselves 
if  the  spirit  be  real.  When  the  priests  have  chant- 
ed the  form  over  them,  the  real  spirit  enters.” 

“You  said  I might  talk  to  her;  how  can  I? 
Can  she  hear  me?” 

“ Talk  to  her  spirit  in  the  tablet,  and  it  will  be 
just  the  same  as  if  you  were  talking  right  to  her ; 
she  will  hear  all  you  say.” 

“ How  must  I worship  ? Will  you  show  me 
some  time?” 

“Yes;  this  evening  we  will  go  to  her  tablet, 
and  then  you  may  offer  food  and  incense  and  wor- 
ship the  spirit  of  your  new  mother.  She  should 
have  food,  for  her  spirit  will  grow  hungry.  I fear 
that  Lian  will  not  give  her  any.  Every  morning 
and  evening  you  must  burn  incense  and  place  food 
and  tea  before  the  tablet ; then  tell  her  to  take  these 
things  from  her  daughter  and  ask  her  to  take  care 
of  the  daughter  who  loves  her.” 

“ Will  she  say  anything  to  me  ?” 

“ No ; her  way  of  saying  will  be  to  do  what  you 
ask.” 

“ Then  she  will  not  talk  to  me  at  all,  or  even 
let  me  know  that  she  loves  me?” 

“ No ; she  will  show  it  only  by  what  she  does 
for  you.” 

“ How,  then,  can  I know  that  she  hears  me  or 
is  in  the  tablet  at  all?” 

“ Because  I tell  you  that  she  is  there.” 

“ But  how  do  you  know  ?” 


88 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


“Bt'cau.se  that  is  the  place  where  spirits  always 
go.” 

“ I wish  I could  see  or  hear  ray  new  raother. 
Do  the  gods  take  care  of  us  and  love  us?” 

“ Yes,  if  we  worship  and  make  offerings  in  their 
temple.” 

“ Will  they  not  love  or  take  care  of  us  unless 
we  pay  them  for  it?” 

“ You  must  not  say  ‘ pay  them,’  but  ‘ make  offer- 
ings to  them.’  ” 

“ Do  they  care  for  those  who  make  no  offerings  ?” 
“ Perhaps  they  do,  sometimes.” 

“ Would  they  care  for  a poor  slave-girl  who  has 
no  mother,  and  who  cannot  offer  them  anything?” 
“Yes,  I think  they  will  if  you  worship  in  their 
temple  and  burn  incense  to  them.” 

“How  must  I worship  the  gods?” 

“ You  must  do  right,  and  then  you  must  go  to 
the  temple  every  day  ; there  you  must  kneel  before 
the  idols,  and,  closing  your  eyes  and  folding  your 
hands,  you  must  tell  the  gods  that  they  are  great 
and  very  powerful  and  able  to  do  anything  asked 
of  them.  You  must  make  them  believe  that  you 
think  they  are  the  best  and  greatest  gods  in  the 
whole  world.  And  then  tell  them  that  you  are 
a poor  helpless  girl  unworthy  of  their  notice,  yet 
you  ask  them  to  pity  and  care  for  you.” 

“How  can  the  gods  hear?  They  are  made  of 
clay  and  stone  and  wood.  How  can  such  things 
help  people  ?”  ^ 


INTO  DARKNESS. 


89 


“ It  is  not  the  image  that  helps  people ; it  is  the 
spirit  of  the  god  in  it  that  hears  and  cares  for  us.” 

“ Did  any  one  ever  see  the  gods  alive  ?” 

“ I do  not  know.  Gods  are  spirits ; people  can- 
not see  them.” 

“ How  often  must  we  pray  to  the  gods  ?” 

“ As  often  as  we  wish.  We  ought  to  go  to  the 
temple  and  pray  at  least  once  every  day.” 

“ Have  you  been  yet  to-day  ?” 

“No,  not  yet.” 

“ Will  you  take  me  when  you  go,  and  show  me 
how  to  pray?” 

“Yes,  and  I hope  you  will  go  often.  The  gods 
will  think  that  you  like  them ; perhaps  they  will 
love  you  then.” 

“If  they  will,  I will  go  often.  Is  it  time  to  go 
now?” 

“ Yes ; any  time  will  do.  We  will  go  right 
away  ;”  and,  taking  the  hand  of  the  child,  the 
old  woman  led  her  to  the  temple. 

“ Wliere  are  you  going?”  asked  Khiau,  who 
came  out  of  the  house  and  saw  them. 

“Going  to  the  temple  to  worship,”  said  Leug 
Tso.  “ Grandmother  means  to  show  me  how. 
Come  along  with  us,  will  you,  Khiau?” 

“No,”  said  the  boy;  “I  am  getting  along  well, 
and  don’t  need  any  help  of  the  gods  now.  Besides, 
men  don’t  go  to  the  temple  to  pray.  My  father 
does  not,  any  way.” 

Entering  the  temple.  So  Chim  took  some  incense- 


90  THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 

sticks  from  a package,  and  dropped  a cash  * or  hvo 
into  a closed  box  to  pay  for  them.  With  flint, 
steel  and  tinder  she  lit  the  sticks,  and  set  them 
into  the  incense-ashes  before  the  idol.  Then, 
motioning  to  Leng  Tso  to  do  as  she  did,  the  old 
woman  kneeled  down,  and,  folding  her  hands  and 
closing  her  eyes,  she  bowed  her  head  a number  of 
times  almost  to  the  floor  before  the  idol.  After 
that,  still  kneeling,  she  began  to  pray  to  the  god. 
In  a low  voice  she  told  the  idol  how  great  and  good 
he  was,  and  said  enough  flattering  things  to  make 
the  god  suppose  he  was  the  greatest  being  in  ex- 
istence. Then  in  a few  words  she  told  her  own 
wants  and  asked  the  god  to  care  for  her  and  help 
her.  Before  she  rose  from  her  knees  Leng  Tso 
whispered, 

“Grandmother,  please  tell  him  about  me.” 

The  old  woman  began  again  to  praise  the  god 
as  before,  and  then  she  told  him  what  Leng  Tso 
was,  and  said  that  some  day  she  might  be  a great 
and  rich  woman,  able  to  build  many  temples  to 
the  honor  of  the  god  and  give  him  many  very 
costly  presents.  At  last  she  closed  something  like 

this : 

“ Now,  if  you  are  wise,  you  will  take  good  care 
of  this  girl,  for  you  will  gain  very  much  by  it  in 
the  end.” 

After  they  had  risen  from  their  knees,  Leng 
Tso  asked, 

* A cash  is  a Chinese  coin  worth  about  one-tenth  of  a cent. 


INTO  DARKNESS. 


91 


“ Do  you  think,  grandmother,  that  the  god  will 
do  for'  me  what  you  told  him  ?” 

“ Yes,  I hope  so,  my  child,”  said  she,  “ for  he 
will  want  to  get  those  temples  and  other  gifts. 
If  you  ever  become  rich  and  great,  you  must 
give  them.” 

“ But,  grandmother,”  said  the  child,  I am 
only  a poor  slave-girl ; how  can  I ever  be  rich 
or  great?” 

“ That  does  not  matter  much,”  said  the  old 
woman,  “ if  the  promise  makes  the  god  help  you. 
Who  knows  but  that  his  help  may  make  you 
great  ?” 

“Is  that  the  way  you  talk  to  gods,  grandmother? 
Are  there  no  gods  that  will  love  you  even  if  they 
know  you  can’t  do  much  for  them?  I do  not 
M’ant  to  make  believe,  and  I want  a god  who  is 
like  a great  mother,  always  loving  and  taking 
care  of  me.” 

“My  child,”  said  the  old  woman,  “the  gods 
are  not  of  the  same  kind  that  we  are.  They  are 
greater,  and  we  must  do  something  to  honor  them 
for  what  they  do  for  us.” 

“ Is  there  no  god  who  is  like  us  ? Is  there  no 
mother  or  father  god  who  will  take  care  of  us  as 
children  ?” 

“I  don’t  know  of  any.” 

“ Who  made  the  gods,  grandmother  ?” 

“ Made  the  gods  ! What  do  yon  mean,  child  ?” 

“ Who  made  the  first  ones  ? If  he  made  them 


92 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VEGIRL. 


for  people  to  worship,  why  did  he  not  make  them 
so  that  we  could  love  them  ?” 

“ I do  not  know,  my  child.  But  you  must  not 
ask  such  questions.  Come ! we  will  go  now  to 
your  home  and  worship  the  spirit  of  your  new 
mother.” 

Lian  was  away  yet,  and  the  door  was  locked. 
Leng  Tso  soon  got  the  key,  and  the  two  went  into 
the  house.  They  found  the  tablet  standing  on  a 
shelf  in  a small  room. 

“ There!”  said  So  Chim;  “ the  spirit  of  your  new 
mother  is  in  that  tablet,  and  when  you  worship 
before  that  you  worship  her  spirit.  You  rhust 
treat  the  tablet  just  as  you  would  your  mother.” 

“ But  how  can  her  spirit  get  into  that  little  board? 
It  is  not  much  longer  than  my  mother’s  hand,  and 
is  not  nearly  so  wide,”  said  the  child. 

“ Spirits  can  go  anywhere.” 

“Can  they  go  where  there  is  no  room  for  them? 
Do  they  make  themselves  small  ?” 

“ Yes ; spirits  can  put  themselves  in  the  smallest 
place.” 

“Grandmother,  are  you  sure  that  the  spirit  of 
my  new  mother  is  in  this  tablet?  It  does  not  seem 
so  to  me.” 

“ No  matter ; her  spirit  is  in  it.  But  it  is  grow- 
ing late,  and  we  must  not  be  here  after  dark.  We 
must  hasten.  There  is  no  food  here,  I suppose? 
Besides,  I do  not  wish  to  use  Hou’s  food  without 
his  consent.  You  go  to  my  home  and  ask  Khiau’s 


I 


So  (’him  teaches  i^eng  Tso  to  pray. 


Page  93. 


INTO  DARKNESS. 


93 


mother  to  give  you  some  rice  and  other  things  to 
offer  to  the  spirit  of  Hou  So,  and  come  back 
right  away.” 

In  a few  minutes  Leng  Tso  returned  with  the 
food  and  followed  by  Khiau.  He  stood  quietly 
looking  on  as  the  old  woman  and  the  little  girl 
prepared  the  food  and  the  incense  to  be  offered. 

Before  the  tablet,  on  a little  table.  So  Chim 
placed  a bowl  of  rice,  a dish  of  meat,  and  a dish 
or  two  with  other  dainties.  By  the  rice  she  laid  a 
pair  of  chopsticks,  and  then,  pouring  out  from  a 
tiny  tea-pot  some  tea  into  a small  cup,  she  finished 
the  preparations  for  the  spirit’s  feast.  After  that 
she  lit  a few  sticks  of  incense  and  placed  them  in  a 
bamboo  cup  before  the  tablet.  When  all  was  ready 
she  motioned  to  Leng  Tso  to  kneel  with  her,  with 
the  table  between  them  and  the  tablet.  Then  she 
said  in  a low  voice, 

“ Do  just  as  I do.” 

Both  folded  their  hands  as  they  held  them  up 
toward  the  tablet,  and  three  times  bowed  their  faces 
nearly  to  the  floor.  When  this  was  done.  So  Chim, 
followed  by  Leng  Tso,  said, 

“ O exalted  spirit,  the  former  partner  of  Tiu 
Hou,  receive  and  eat  these  worthless  portions  of 
food  from  your  adopted  daughter  and  her  unworthy 
friend.  The  world  is  lonely  since  you  left  it.  Our 
eyes  are  hunger-stricken  to  see  your  excellent  face 
once  more,  and  our  hearts  are  drooping,  withering 
with  drought,  because  no  longer  we  enjoy  the  dew 


94  THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 

of  your  presence.  Come  back  to  us  again,  and  let 
us  at  least  feel  that  you  are  watching  over  and  still 
caring  for  us.  Keep  all  evil  from  us,  and  give  us 
every  good  that,  in  the  exalted  land  in  which  you 
dwell,  vou  are  so  able  to  bestow.  Remember  us, 
and  we  will  not  forget  you.  This  is  the  prayer  of 
your  slaves,  the  worthless  wdfe  of  the  exalted  Liu 
So  and  the  adopted  and  unworthy  daughter  of  the 
noble  spirit  of  Tiu  Hou’s  heaven-born  partner.” 
“Must  I always  say  the  same  words?”  asked 
Leng  Tso  as  the  two  rose  from  their  knees. 

“ Xo,”  answered  So  Chim  ; “ use  any  words  you 
wish.  But  always  speak  very  respectfully  to  the 
spirits  of  the  dead.  Come!  it  is  growing  dark 
now,  and  we  must  go  home.  I will  put  out  these 
incense-sticks,  as  they  are  nearly  burned  up,  any 
way,  lest  something  take  fire  from  them.” 

“Will  you  leave  the  food?”  asked  Leng  Tso. 

“ Yes ; the  spirit  may  be  hungry  in  the  night, 
and  then  it  can  get  what  it  wants,”  answered  the 
old  woman. 

“ So  will  the  rats  and  mice,”  said  Khiau  in  a 
voice  too  low  to  be  heard.  He  did  not  believe  all 
that  his  grandmother  said  about  spirits.  M ith  all 
his  fun  and  nonsense,  Khiau  did  not  a little  think- 
ing for  himself.  His  mother,  with  her  large  family 
of  little  children,  had  not  had  much  time  to  teach 
him  about  idolatry,  and,  as  men  give  the  religious 
teaching  of  the  children  very  much  to  their  wives 
and  mothers,  Khiau  had  not  been  taught  much 


INTO  DARKNESS. 


95 


about  spirit-worship  and  idolatry.  Until  lately  So 
Chim  had  spent  most  of  her  time  with  her  other 
sons,  and  she  began  to  find  that  Khiau  was  even 
less  ready  to  worship  the  spirits  and  the  gods  than 
was  his  father. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


THE  RETURN  OF  HOU. 

IT  was  several  days  after  the  burial  of  Hou  So 
that  Hou  returned.  He  heard  on  his  way  to 
the  village  that  a woman  had  been  carried  off  by 
tigers',  but  did  not  for  a moment  think  that  it  was 
his  wife.  It  was  growing  dark  as  he  entered  Thau 
Pan,  and,  seeing  no  one,  he  went  at  once  to  his  own 
door.  It  was  locked.  He  tried  to  open  it,  but  in 
vain.  Where  could  his  wife  and  daughter  be?  he 
asked  himself.  And  where  was  that  slave-girl, 
Leng  Tso?  It  was  their  duty  to  be  at  home;  but 
of  course,  as  soon  as  he  went  away,  they  were  olF 
at  once.  Women,  he  thought,  were  always  lazy, 
and  they  were  worthless  unless  there  was  some 
man  around  to  see  that  they  kept  at  work.  But  he 
would  see  that  they  paid  for  this.  He  would  make 
Leng  Tso  work  all  the  harder,  and  he  even  thought 
of  giving  Lian  work  to  do  too ; and,  as  for  his  wife, 
he  would  see  that  she  stayed  at  home  in  future. 

But  his  thinking  and  his  planning  work  for 
them  did  not  admit  him  or  bring  the  absent  ones 
to  the  house.  He  knocked  at  the  door,  loud,  then 
louder,  and  louder  still,  all  the  time  thinking  what 

96 


THE  RETURN  OF  HOU. 


97 


he  would  do  to  give  more  work  to  his  family.  He 
was  unwilling  to  look  for  them  ; it  was  their  busi- 
ness to  be  at  home,  and  not  his  to  search  for  them. 
But  no  one  came.  Out  of  humor  because  he  had 
not  met  with  success  in  the  business  for  which  he 
had  been  away,  and  more  out  of  humor  still  be- 
cause he  found  none  of  his  family  waiting  to  meet 
him,  Hou'became  angry.  Angry  people  generally 
are  foolish,  and  so  was  Hou.  With  all  his  strength 
he  pushed  against  the  door,  and  the  door  opened. 
He  entered  the  house ; it  was  too  dark  to  see  any- 
thing. He  groped  about  until  he  found  the  flint, 
steel  and  tinder-box,  when  he  struck  a light  and  lit 
a lamp. 

He  saw  at  once  that  something  had  happened  in 
his  house.  He  went  from  room  to  room  until  he 
came  to  the  little  one  in  which  the  tablet  of  his 
wife  was  placed.  For  a moment  he  looked  at  it 
and  wondered  what  it  meant.  He  saw  that  it  was 
a new  tablet.  But  wlio  had  placed  it  there  and 
why  was  it  there  ? Then  he  slowly  read  the  cha- 
racters painted  on  the  wood  : 

“Lin  Tsui  Lau,  Wife  of  Tiu  Hou  Kek. 

“ Erected  by  Tiu  Lian,  the  affectionate  daughter, 
for  the  spirit  of  her  exalted  mother.” 

What  could  this  mean?'  It  was  a tablet  to  the 
spirit  of  his  wife,  but  why  should  that  be  erected 
now  ? He  slowly  took  from  its  socket  the  piece 
of  the  tablet  having  the  writing  on  it,  and 


98 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


turned  the  back  to  the  light.  There  he  saw  writ- 
ten the  date  of  the  birth  and  the  death  and  the 
place  of  the  grave  of  his  own  wife.  The  date  of 
her  death  was  only  a few  days  before,  and  during 
his  absence.  Slowly  the  truth  came  to  his  mind. 
Ilis  wife  was  dead  and  buried,  and  this  was  the 
tablet  in  which  her  spirit  was  ! Dead  ! Buried ! 
And  not  many  days  ago  he  had  left  her  alive  and 
well ! Could  it  be  that  Tsui,  the  woman  who  for 
these  sixteen  years  had  been  his  wife,  was  gone  ? 
Was  she  dead  ? He  forgot  now  all  the  unkind 
things  he  had  thought  of  her,  and  only  remem- 
bered that  she  had  been  a good  wife — better  than 
the  wives  of  others. 

IIou  was  not  without  feeling.  Hard  and  cold- 
hearted  though  he  was,  yet,  like  almost  every  hu- 
man being,  he  had  in  him  something  that  could 
lov’e — something,  too,  that  might  have  made  him 
loved  by  others.  But  when  he  was  yet  a boy  every 
one  thought  him  bad  and  treated  him  as  though  he 
were  so,  and  poor  Hou  never  let  them  see  what  there 
really  was  in  his  heart.  They  told  his  wife,  as  soon 
as  she  came  to  the  village,  that  he  was  a bad  man, 
and  so  turned  her  too  against  him. 

But  now,  when  no  one  saw  him  as  he  stood  before 
what  he  thought  was  the  spirit  of  his  dead  wife, 
the  harsh  man  showed  what  really  was  in  his  heart. 
Taking  the  tablet  in  his  hands,  he  knelt  down  be- 
fore it  and  began  to  pray  to  the  spirit  of  Hou  So. 
He  prayed,  not  as  to  a god,  but  to  the  spirit  of  a 


THE  RETURN  OF  HOU. 


99 


guardian  angel  whom  he  loved.  When  he  spoke 
her  name  it  was  not  that  by  which  he  used  to  call 
her,  but  the  name  that  he  had  almost  never  spoken. 
It  was  the  name  that,  deep  down  in  his  heart,  he 
had  given  to  his  wife  when  first  they  were  married, 
and  before  enemies  had  made  her  dislike  her  hus- 
band. When  that  name  fell  from  his  lips  and  the 
sound  touched  his  ear,  a tear  rolled  down  the  cheek 
of  Hou,  and  then  another  and  another ; and  he 
whom  his  neighbors  called  the  man  without  a heart 
wept  like  a child.  All  those  sixteen  years  of  fear, 
indifference,  and  almost  hate,  on  the  part  of  his 
wife  toward  him  w'ere  forgotten.  He  thought  of 
her  as  his  young  bride — the  one  who  would  love 
him  and  believe  that  he  was  not  a bad  man. 

Now  she — the  only  one  whom  he  had  hoped  to 
love,  the  one  to  whom  he  had  looked  as  the  single 
friend  of  his  life — was  dead.  He  was  alone,  un- 
loved, untrusted,  hated,  despised.  Could  his  womt 
enemies  have  seen  his  sorrow,  they  would  have 
pitied  Hou.  Were  there  any  reality  in  this  sjjirit- 
religion,  and  could  the  soul  of  his  wife  have  heard 
the  piteous  cry  of  the  man  whom  she  thought  a 
brute,  it  would  hav'e  comforted  her. 

A terrible  crime  w'as  that  of  those  whose  tongues 
helped  to  make  Hou  what  he  seemed  and  filled  the 
life  of  Hou  So  with  such  sadness.  A little  unkind- 
ness at  first,  followed  by  a story  that  has  enough 
fact  in  it  to  make  it  seem  true,  may  destroy  the 
life-happiness  of  more  than  one.  People  blamed 


100 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-OIRL. 


Hou,  and  he  was  to  be  blamed,  for  be  liad  been  a 
bad  man.  But  he  was  not  alone  in  his  sin.  Others 
had  helped  to  make  him  what  he  became,  and  they 
were  partnei-s  in  his  sins. 

When  the  first  burst  of  his  grief  was  past,  Hou, 
replacing  the  tablet,  sat  down  to  think.  Why  had 
his  wife  been  buried  so  suddenly  ? Was  this  an- 
other and  a greater  unkindness  than  all  the  others 
he  had  received  ? Had  the  people  buried  her  in 
so  great  haste  to  prevent  his  being  present?  He 
could  think  of  no  other  reason.  He  knew  well 
that  the  bodies  of  the  dead  were  kept  in  the  air- 
tight coffins  for  many  days,  even  for  months,  and 
in  some  cases  for  more  than  a year,  before  burial. 
It  must  have  been  because  the  people  wished  to 
spite  him.  Had  he  no  friend  in  the  village  to 
plead  for  him  in  his  absence? 

Suddenly  he  remembered  that  he  had  heard  of  a 
tiger  killing  a woman  in  the  village,  and  now  he 
knew  the  whole.  It  was  his  own  wife,  and  the 
people,  on  account  of  their  dread  of  tigers,  had 
hastily  buried  her.  For  a moment  the  old  feeling 
of  hate  to  those  who  hated  him  was  forgotten  : 
then  came  over  him  that  superstition  that  is  one 
of  the  greatest  curses  in  China.  He  believed  that 
some  of  his  enemies  in  the  village  had  sent  that 
tiger.  They  had  taken  the  time  of  his  absence  to 
kill  his  wife  and  bury  her.  And  to  kill  her  bv  a 
tiger!  He  gnashed  his  teeth  in  anger  and  hate  as 
he  thought  of  their  malice.  Then,  as  he  thought 


THE  RETURN  OF  HOU. 


101 


how  it  would  gratify  them  to  see  his  grief,  he  re- 
solved not  to  let  one  in  the  village  know  that  he 
felt  the  loss  of  his  wdfe.  He  determined  not  to 
say  a word  to  any  one  about  her — not  even  to 
Lian,  lest  she  tell  others.  And  then  Hou’s  heart 
froze  up  again. 

Whether  or  not  he  lingered  to  see  Lian  and 
Ijeng  Tso,  or  whether  he  determined  that  they 
should  not  stay  with  others,  need  not  be  told,  but 
he  soon  went  out  for  them  and  brought  the  girls 
to  his  home.  He  was,  as  usual,  silent  and  gloomy. 
As  soon  as  they  could  get  away  they  went  to  their 
rooms  and  to  bed.  But  Hou  could  not  sleep. 
After  a while  he  heard  a noise;  and,  going  from 
one  room  to  another  to  see  what  it  was,  he  saw, 
through  the  partly-open  door,  a light  in  the  little 
room  in  which  the  tablet  was.  Without  making 
any  noise  he  approached  the  door,  and  saw  Leng 
Tso  kneeling  before  the  tablet  and  whispering  a 
prayer  to  the  spirit  of  Hou  So. 

The  ice  in  the  heart  of  the  hard  man  began  to 
melt,  and  he  was  ready  to  kneel  by  the  little  slave- 
girl  to  pray  with  her,  when  he  heard  her  in  louder 
tones  say,  “ Keep  me  from  tigers,  and  keep  me 
from  mv  master.  Do  not  let  him  send  tigers 
after  me.” 

Tlie  ice  melted  no  more.  Hou’s  heart  was  as 
hard  again  as  a rock.  He  went  back  to  his  room 
hating  Leng  Tso,  hating  those  whom  he  knew 
had  told  her  that  he  had  sent  the  tiger  to  kill 


102 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-GIRL. 


his  wife,  hating  everybody.  He  was  ready  to  do 
any  evil. 

Morning  came,  and  not  a word  was  said  by  any 
of  the  three  about  IIou  So  or  her  death.  In  a few 
words  Hou  told  Lian  to  stay  at  home  to  take  cai’e 
of  the  house  and  do  the  work ; then,  calling  Long 
Tso,  he  started  for  the  field. 

The  time  for  the  morning  meal  came,  but  he 
said  nothing  about  going  to  the  village.  Steadily 
he  worked,  without  saying  a word,  after  telling  her 
what  to  do,  until  nearly  noon.  Then  he  told  Leng 
Tso  to  go  home  and  eat,  and  not  to  come  hack  again. 

All  day  he  stayed  in  the  field.  Toward  night 
Leng  Tso  went  to  see  So  Chim,  and  told  her  of 
Hou’s  being  in  the  field  and  not  coming  home  at 
all  to  eat. 

“ He  feels  sad,”  said  the  old  woman,  ‘‘  and  no 
one  will  try  to  comfort  him.  He  is  not  so  bad  as 
some  think.  I will  go  and  try  to  comfort  him.” 

She  went  to  the  field  anil  spoke  to  Hou.  She 
said  it  was  growing  late  and  Lian  would  feel  lone- 
Iv.  Would  he  not  go  home  soon  ? It  was  the  first 
kind  word  he  had  heard  from  any  in  the  village 
for  many  years,  and  he  did  not  know  what  to  say 
or  think,  so  was  silent. 

By  and  by  So  Chim  persuaded  him  to  go  home. 
Her  kind  words  made  him  think  that  perhaj)s 
there  was  one  in  the  village  who  did  not  hate  him. 
For  days  he  remembered  those  words,  and  almost 
wished  that  So  Chim  would  come  to  his  home  to 


THE  RETURN  OF  HOU. 


103 


talk  to  him.  He  would  have  given  anything  for 
a little  kindness,  a few  words  of  comfort;  but  he 
forgot  that  to  get  kindness  from  others  he  must 
show  some  to  others.  No  one  would  meet  him 
with  a friendly  word,  because  no  one  thought  that 
he  would  care  for  it.  If  the  people  were  to  blame 
for  their  unkindness  to  Hou,  he  was  not  innocent. 
Had  he  given  them  a reason  to  suppose  that  he 
had  a heart,  they  would  not  all  have  said  that  he 
lost  his  heart  in  a former  life.  People  in  other 
countries  than  China  treat  us  very  much  as  we 
treat  them.  If  the  world’s  unkindness  makes 
Hons,  it  is  because  there  are  peojile  who  are  ready 
to  become  Hous. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


THE  ECLIPSE.— THE  WEDDING. 

NE  evening  in  tlie  autumn,  when  Leng  Tso 


was  spending  an  liour  or  two  in  the  home  of 
Khiau  (she  might  go  there  since  Hou  had  been 
treated  so  kindly  by  So  Chim),  an  unusual  noise 
was  heard  in  the  village  court.  Men  were  shout- 
ing at  the  top  of  their  voices  and  screaming  as 
though  some  terrible  calamity  were  about  to  befall 
them.  Gongs  were  sounded,  drums  were  beat, 
horns  blown,  guns  discharged  and  crackei’s  fired 
by  thousands.  It  seemed  as  though  everything 
that  could  make  a noise  at  all  was  brought  out 
and  used.  At  the  first  sound  of  the  shouting 
Khiau  cried  “Haw!  Haw!’’  and  ran  down 
stairs  to  shut  and  bar  the  door.  So  Chim  soon 
called  to  him  that  it  w'as  no  tiger,  but  that  the 
great  beast  who  had  so  often  before  tried  to  swallow 
the  moon  was  no  doubt  trying  to  do  so  again.  She 
bade  the  boys  get  everything  that  would  make  a 
noise,  and  hurry  out  into  the  court  to  frighten 
the  monster  away. 

In  a few  moments  all  were  outside,  where  they 
found  nearly  every  one  in  the  village  gathered. 


104 


THE  ECLIPSE.— THE  WEDDING. 


105 


Some  were  lighting  off  the  fire-crackers,  others 
were  beating  gongs  and  drums,  while  nearly  every 
one  was  screaming  his  or  her  throat  hoarse,  to 
frighten  away  the  shadow  that  was  slowly  creep- 
ing across'  the  moon.  A few  of  the  smaller  chil- 
dren thought  it  good  fun  to  have  so  much  noise 
and  to  see  their  fathers  and  mothers  making  more 
of  it  than  they  themselves  could,  but  the  older 
ones  were  serious,  while  not  a few  women  were 
crying  and  some  men  seemed  terribly  frightened. 

It  was  an  eclipse  of  the  moon.  The  Chinese 
did  not  know  that  it  was  nothing  but  the  earth 
passing  between  the  moon  and  the  sun,  and  that 
it  was  only  the  earth’s  shadow  that  was  caus- 
ing the  eclipse.  They  supposed  that  it  was  a 
great  monster — some  say  animal,  others  evil  god 
— that  was  trying  to  swallow  the  moon.  While 
the  people  were  very  unwilling  to  spare  it,  and 
thought  that  if  the  beast  or  god  was  very  hungry 
* he  might  make  his  supjier  of  something  else,  they 
were  not  so  anxious  about  the  moon  as  they  were 
about  themselves.  The  fact  that  this  monster  was 
trying  to  eat  up  the  moon  told  them  that  he  was 
near  and  that  they  would  soon  find  he  was  bent 
on  misc  hief.  If  allowed  to  stay,  he  would  do  a 
great  deal  of  harm,  and  their  noise  was  probably 
not  so  much  to  frighten  him  from  swallowing  the 
moon  as  to  drive  him  away  altogether. 

Though  they  continued  their  noises,  louder,  if 
possible,  than  ever,  for  more  than  an  hour,  the 


106  THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 

monster  continued  swallowing  the  moon  until  she 
disappeared  entirely.  The  eclipse  was  total.  The 
din  of  their  noise  was  now  changed  to  cries  and 
screams  of  terror.  Tlie  moon  was  devoured,  and 
the  monster  meant  to  stay. 

When  all  were  ready  to  despair,  an  old  man  said 
they  must  not  stop;  the  monster  might  yet  be 
forced  to  give  back  the  moon  and  be  frightened 
away.  He  said  that  more  than  once,  in  the  city 
where  he  used  to  live,  the  monster  had  swallowed 
the  moon,  yet  by  continued  noise  the  people  had 
compelled  him  to  disgorge  it  and  make  his  escape. 

Again  the  drums  were  beat,  the  gongs  sounded, 
crackers  fired,  guns  discharged,  while  all  united 
in  loud  unearthly  screams  to  frighten  the  evil 
beast  away.  In  a few  minutes  the  eclipse  began 
to  pass  off;  an  edge  of  the  moon  was  seen.  The 
people,  encouraged  by  this,  renewed  their  noises, 
that  they  might  so  frighten  the  monster  that  he 
would  not  only  give  back  the  whole  moon,  but 
go  away  never  again  to  return. 

In  due  time  the  shadow  passed  off;  the  eclipse 
was  over,  and  the  people  were  happy.  But  a few 
of  the  older  ones  shook  their  heads  as  they  said, 
“ We  have  not  seen  the  last  of  this  yet ; some  terri- 
ble evil  will  surely  come.”  After  talking  a while 
about  their  success  in  driving  away  the  monster, 
they  scattered  one  by  one  to  their  homes.  Some 
of  the  boys,  however,  remained  to  talk  over  the 
event  of  the  evening. 


THE  ECLIPSE.— THE  WEDDING. 


107 


“Liong,”  said  Khiau,  “I  don’t  believe  that 
was  a monster  god  or  beast  tliat  they  say  swallowed 
the  moon.  If  it  was,  the  monster  had  a very 
tliin  month,  for  we  could  see  the  moon  through 
it.  I believe  the  moon  put  on  a big  hat  or  some- 
thing, and  that  hid  her  as  she  turned  around  to 
let  others  see  how  she  looked.  The  moon  is  only 
the  face  of  a big  woman  in  the  sky.  M e cannot 
see  the  rest  of  her,  because  her  clothes  hide  her 
body.” 

“ How  do  you  know  ?”  asked  Liong. 

‘^How  do  people  know  a great  man}’  things? 
They  think  they  are  so,  and  then  they  say  so.  I 
think  the  moon  is  a great  woman,  and  I say  she 
is;  and  that  makes  it  just  as  true  as  for  people  to 
say  that  a monster  swallowed  the  moon.” 

“Khiau,”  said  Liong,  “I  believe  that  the  moon 
is  nothing  but  a hole  in  the  sky  thi’ough  which 
one  of  the  gods  looks.” 

“ IVhat,  then,  is  it  when  the  moon  stops  her 
shining?”  asked  Khiau. 

“ Oh,  that  is  one  of  the  black-faced  gods  trying 
to  look  through  the  hole.  So,  too,  when  the  moon 
gets  smaller,  the  black-faced  god  is  crowding  the 
other  away.” 

“ I don’t  believe  it  at  all,”  said  another  boy  who 
was  listening.  “Old  people  know  more  than  you 
boys  do,  and  I believe  what  they  say.  It  was  a 
monster  that  tried  to  swallow  the  moon,  and  I 
heard  grandfather  say  that  he  would  bring  us  much 


108 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


trouble  this  year.  I mean  to  pray  tlie  gods  every 
day  not  to  let  any  evil  come  to  our  house.” 

“I  do  not  believe,  when  the  moon  gets  dark  and 
bright  again  in  the  same  night,  that  it  is  just  to 
bring  trouble  to  our  village,”  said  Khiau.  “ It  is 
the  same  moon  which  they  have  all  throudi  the 

► O 

iMiddle  Kingdom  ;*  and  if  darkening  the  moon 
brings  trouble  to  our  place,  why  wouldn’t  it  to 
all  the  places  in  the  Middle  Kingdom  ?” 

“ How  do  you  know  but  that  it  does  ?”  said  an- 
other boy. 

“ I know,”  answered  Khiau,  “ that  there  often 
is  drought  or  sickness  in  one  place  and  not  in  an- 
other. If  moon-darkness  brings  evil,  it  must  bring 
it  at  the  same  time  to  every  place  which  has  the 
moon.” 

“You  will  see,”  said  the  other  boy,  “before  the 
year  is  out,  that  some  trouble  will  come  to  this 
village.  Will  you  believe  it  then?” 

“ I suppose  I must.” 

“ Khiau,  Khiau !”  called  somebody,  and  the 
boys  sej^arated. 

Khiau  found  his  grandmother  talking  seriously 
to  a neighbor. 

“I  am  afraid  that  this  moon-darkness  will  be. 
followed  by  some  great  rebellion,”  said  she;  “it 
has  been  so  before,  and  may  be  so  again.” 

* The  Chinese  call  their  country  the  Middle  Kingdom,  and 
others  the  outside  kingdoms.  They  believe  that  China  is  the 
central  and  most  important  nation  of  the  earth. 


THE  ECLIPSE.— THE  WEDDING. 


109 


“ I do  not  care  about  the  rebellion,”  replied  the 
neighbor,  “ if  it  does  not  come  to  our  village.  It 
may  make  the  price  of  rice  go  up,  and  then  we 
who  have  rice  to  sell  will  make  money.” 

“ It  must  be  our  duty,”  said  So  Chim,  “ to  pray 
daily  to  the  gods  and  to  make  many  offerings  to 
them,  and  to  the  spirits  too,  to  gain  their  good- 
will and  to  keep  evil  away.” 

When  the  neighbor  had  gone,  Leng  Tso,  who 
still  remained,  asked, 

“ Grandmother,  wliy  do  not  the  gods  keep  the 
evil  monster  away  from  the  moon?” 

“I  do  not  know,  my  child,”  she  replied,  “ unless 
the  gods  are  angry  with  us,  and  mean  to  punish  us 
for  our  evil  doings.” 

“Cannot  we  do  something  to  please  them  and 
turn  away  their  anger?”  asked  the  little  girl. 

“ Yes,  certainly ; but  all  the  people  must  do 
something.  If  one  or  two,  or  a few  only,  do, 
that  may  keep  some  evil  from  them,  but  it  will 
not  stop  great  evil.” 

“ Why,  then,  do  not  all  join  together  to  worship 
and  to  offer  sacrifices?”  asked  the  child. 

“People  always  wish  to  put  such  things  off  as 
long  as  they  can,  and  not  until  the  evil  is  upon 
them  will  they  do  anything.” 

“ Perhaps,  grandmother,”  said  Khiau,  “ they  are 
not  sure  that  evil  will  come ; and  if  it  does  not, 
then  all  of  their  offerings  will  be  wasted.” 

“ No,  they  would  not  be  wasted,  for  they  would 


no 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


win  the  fav^or  of  the  gods,  and  not  only  keep  off 
the  evil,  but  bring  good.” 

“ How  would  it  do  to  make  offerings  to  one  god 
every  day  and  keep  his  favor  always,  so  if  other 
gods  wanted  to  do  us  harm  he  would  help  us? 
Then  we  might  let  the  gods  fight  it  out  among 
themselves,  and  we  would  be  safe  too,”  said  Khiau. 

“ What  if  your  god  should  not  be  strong  enough 
to  resist  all  of  the  others?”  asked  Mi,  Khiau’s  sister. 

“ Then  I sup])ose  we  should  suffer.  But  we 
must  get  the  strongest  god.” 

“ My  child,”  said  the  grandmother  to  the  unbe- 
lieving Khiau,  “I  am  afraid  that  the  gods  will 
bring  some  great  punishment  upon  you.  You 
must  act  and  talk  differently  about  the  gods,  or  not 
only  will  you  be  punished,  but  all  of  us  will  suffer 
for  your  sake.  To-morrow  you  must  go  early  to 
the  temple  and  make  offerings  and  pray  the  gods 
to  keej)  evil  away  from  us  all.  You  are  the  olde.st 
son,  and  it  is  your  duty.  The  gods  will  know 
that  you  are  bad  if  you  do  not.” 

“Why  cannot  you  go,  grandmother?”  asked 
Khiau  ; “ you  know  better  how  to  do  it.  Besides, 
if  I am  so  bad,  the  gods  will  not  want  to  listen  to 
me  or  receive  anything  from  me.  You  go  and  tell 
them  that  we  all  belong  to  you.  They  know  that 
you  are  good.  Tell  them  that  I mean  to  be  better, 
and  when  I am  good  I will  make  them  offerings 
too.  But  I am  growing  so  fast  now  that  the  good 
in  me  cannot  keep  up  with  the  growing.” 


THE  ECLIPSE.— THE  WEBEING. 


Ill 


So  Chim  looked  sadly  at  Khiau  for  a moment, 
but  she  saw  that  he  was  not  making  fun,  he  really 
meant  what  he  said ; so  she  only  replied, 

“ I wish,  Khiau,  that  the  good  in  you  grew  as 
fast  as  your  body  does.  You  will  have  much  to 
make  up  by  and  by.” 

“ Grandmother,”  said  he,  “ why  cannot  you  and 
Mi  do  all  the  worshiping  of  the  gods  and  spirits 
for  the  rest  of  us?  It  would  save  time;  besides, 
you  both  like  to  do  it,  and  I do  not.  It  is  harder 
work  than  to  dig  in  the  field.  Father  does  not 
go  to  the  temple  at  all  to  worship,  and  he  ought 
to  know  something  about  worship  too.  I wish, 
if  all  ought  to  worship  the  gods,  that  you  would 
talk  to  him.  You  always  talk  to  me,  and  say 
nothing  to  him.” 

So  Chim  sighed,  but  said  nothing.  She  did  not 
know  whether  her  grandson  was  in  earnest  or  not. 
The  fact  that  her  son  did  not  care  for  the  worship 
of  the  gods  had  already  given  her  a great  deal  of 
trouble.  Khiau  and  his  father  were  like  most  of 
the  men  in  Southern  China,  who  care  very  little 
for  the  temples  or  the  gods  in  them. 

While  most  of  the  men  believe  in  the  power  of  the 
spirits  of  the  dead,  and  worship  them,  yet  for  the 
idols  and  the  temples  they  have  very  little  respect. 
And  year  by  year  that  respect  is  decreasing.  A 
Chinaman  will  laugh  at  his  idols,  and,  if  they  do 
not  grant  his  request,  will  beat  them,  or  even 
throw  them  in  the  dirt,  to  show  that  he  does  not 


112 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


fear  them ; he  will  even  threaten  and  try  to 
frighten  them  into  granting  his  requests. 

After  the  eclipse  came  the  winter,  but,  as  winters 
would  come  in  China  as  well  as  in  other  countries 
even  if  there  were  no  eclipse,  it  would  hardly  be 
fair  to  say  that  this  brought  the  winter.  Besides, 
winter  in  Southern  China  is  not  a very  great  calam- 
ity. The  most  of  the  people  except  boys  could 
endure  two,  and  if  compelled  even  three,  winters 
in  a single  year.  There  is  no  skating,  because 
there  is  no  ice.  In  the  home  of  Leiig  Tso  water 
hardly  ever  freezes.  There  is  no  riding  with  sleds, 
because  no  snow  lies  on  the  ground,  and  rarely  does 
any  fall.  “ Xot  a very  good  place  for  boys,”  you 
.say.  No.  But  then  the  water  is  warm  enough  for 
swimming  all  the  year  round,  and  it  is  never  too 
cold  to  spin  a top,  fly  a kite  or  play  ball.  It  is  a 
good  place  for  boys  who  do  not  care  to  be  snow- 
balled or  to  try  which  is  the  harder,  the  head  or 
the  ice.  And  for  girls  a Southern  Chinese  winter 
.seems  to  be  just  suited — that  is,  if  they  do  not  like 
cold,  ice  and  snow. 

Not  only  does  no  snow  fall,  it  seldom  rains ; nor 
is  the  sky  even  cloudy  during  winter.  Day  by  day 
the  sun  rises  bright  and  smiling,  as  though  he  felt 
entirely  satisfied  with  himself  and  with  every  one 
else.  The  air  is  fresh,  cool  and  so  wholesome  that 
doctors  usually  take  a vacation  then. 

The  birds  do  not  hold 'a  farewell  concert  and 
then  start  for  the  south  as  fall  pa.sse«? ; they  hold 


THE  ECLIPSE.— THE  WEDDING. 


113 


singing-school  and  have  concerts  all  winter.  But 
they  do  not  learn  much.  Many  of  the  Southern 
birds  seem  to  be  born  with  a cold  and  are  alwa)’S 
hoarse,  or  else  they  were  not  made  to  sing.  A short 
song  of  theirs  is  usually  enough  for  us. 

Many  of  the  trees  keep  their  leaves  all  winter. 
Perhaps  the  leaves  find  the  weather  so  pleasant  that 
they  do  not  care  to  go  away  at  all.  The  flowers 
bloom  until  the  ground  becomes  so  dry  that  the 
plants  wither,  and  the  grass  remains  green  if  it  can 
find  moisture  enough  to  keep  it  alive. 

A winter  in  Southern  China  is  delightful  for 
those  who  have  time  to  enjoy  it,  but  for  those  who 
work  in  the  field  winter  gives  little  time  to  rest. 
Though  the  cool,  dry  weather  prevents  crops  from 
growing  rapidly,  yet  some  are  kept  in  the  ground 
and  must  be  attended  to.  Besides,  the  ground 
needs  to  be  prepared  and  crops  planted  for  the  rainy 
season,  which  usually  begins  in  February  or  March. 

In  this  winter  there  came  a message  from  Lian’s 
intended  husband  and  father-in-law  that  a lucky 
day  had  been  chosen,  and  the  wedding  would  take 
place  on  that  day  if  agreeable  to  them.  Lian  was 
glad.  She  was  tired  of  home,  tired  of  being  kept 
in-doors,  tired  of  work,  tired  of  being  mistress  of 
her  father’s  house.  She  was  tired  of  being  alone 
all  day  while  Hou  and  Leng  Tso  were  in  the  field, 
and  the  wedding  could  not  be  appointed  too  soon 
for  her. 

It  was  quite  a long  time  since  her  mother  had 
8 


114 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-OIRL. 


died,  and  no  reasonable  objection  could  be  offered 
to  the  wedding  on  that  account;  yet  Hon  did  find 
fault.  When  he  talked  about  anything,  it  was 
usually  to  grumble  at  it.  He  was  not  yet  ready  to 
let  Lian  go.  Her  first  duty  was  to  take  care  of  her 
father.  What  would  he  do  for  some  one  to  take 
charge  of  his  house  if  she  left  it?  If  they  took 
her  so  soon,  they  ought  to  give  more  marriage- 
money  to  him.  She  was  too  good  a girl  to  go  for 
so  small  a price,  any  way.  He  forgot  that  he  had 
agreed  to  give  his  daughter  for  twice  the  price 
usually  paid  for  wives. 

But  the  grumbling  of  Hou  was  useless;  the  bar- 
gain had  been  made,  ])art  of  the  wedding-money 
paid,  and  he  could  not  now  draw  back.  Nor  did  he 
care  to  do  so.  He  grumbled  because  that  was  most 
natural  to  him.  He  wanted  the  money.  Hou  loved 
money;  he  had  nothing  else  to  love.  He  might 
have  loved  Lian : she  was  his  daughter ; but  Hou 
felt  that  he  could  do  better  by  loving  money.  Lian 
did  not  love  him ; she  did  not  love  any  of  her 
friends  well  enough  to  let  them  know  it.  She  did 
not  hate  her  father  or  treat  him  unkindly  ; the  .same 
miglit  have  been  said  of  the  stones  and  the  trees ; 
and  Lian  showed  little  more  love  to  her  father  than 
they  did.  She  could  love,  and  did,  but  loved  Lian 
only.  She  was  like  a vine  that  has  remained  for  a 
long  time  without  a support,  and  finally,  turning 
in  on  itself,  it  clasps  its  tendrils  around  itself  until 
it  becomes  knotted  in  one  mass,  and  then  seems  un- 


THE  ECLIPSE.— THE  WEDDING. 


115 


willing  to  try  to  cling  to  any  support,  and  no  one 
is  able  to  pull  it  away  from  itself. 

It  was  not  strange  that  Lian  did  not  love  her 
father,  for  when  she  was  a child  and  would  have 
loved  him  he  turned  away  from  her.  He  treated 
her  as  though  she  were  a stranger.  If  it  was  partly 
Hou’s  fault  that  Lian  was  so  unloving,  whose  fault 
was  it  that  Hou  was  so  heartless?  The  influence 
of  those  who  treated  him  unkindly  when  he  was 
yet  a boy  did  not  stop  with  Hou,  or  yet  with  his 
daughter. 

An  unkind  act  or  word  lives  long  after  the  one 
who  did  or  said  it  has  forgotten.  The  good  or  evil 
we  do  dies — when  ? 

All  the  arrangements  for  the  wedding  were  made 
and  Lian  counted  the  days  before  the  time  would 
come.  They  were  long  days  to  her.  She  tliought 
little  about  being  a wife  and  having  new  duties, 
new  cares,  new  responsibilities;  she  only  thought 
that  she  was  to  attend  a wedding  and  be  the  prin- 
cipal one  there.  She  was  to  go  away  from  the  old 
home,  see  new  faces  and  live  in  a large  town.  In 
age  as  well  as  in  experience  she  was  only  a girl. 
She  needed  a mother  rather  than  a husband. 

Tlie  wedding-day  came,  and  Lian  was  dressed  in 
her  bridal-dress  by  some  of  the  old  women  of  the 
village.  Her  hair  was  for  the  first  time  put  up 
like  a married  woman’s,  and  she  was  ready  for  the 
last  ceremonies  before  leaving  for  her  new  home. 
She  went  to  the  little  room  where  the  ancestral 


no 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


tablets  were  kept,  and  tliere  bowed  in  worship  for 
the  last  time  to  the  spirits  of  her  relatives,  and  espe- 
cially that  of  her  own  mother.  Then  she  kneeled 
before  her  father,  worshiping  him  much  as  she  did 
the  spirits  of  the  dead  ; for  after  her  marriage  he 
would  be  to  her  as  though  she  were  dead.  She 
would  belong  to  another  home  and  another  family, 
and  her  own  relatives  would  be  to  her  almost  as 
strangers. 

This  last  ceremony  ended,  she  entered  the  red 
sedan  bridal-chair.  This  chair  is  about  four  feet 
square  and  five  feet  high.  It  is  closed  on  all  sides 
and  on  the  top,  so  that  no  one  may  see  the  bride 
until  her  husband  has  taken  her  from  the  sedan. 
Her  dress  was  of  a bright  red,  and  shone  with 
spangles.  On  her  head  she  wore  a bright-colored 
head-dress  fringed  with  glittering  peiulants,  and 
over  all  a mantle  and  veil  were  thrown  to  hide  the 
bride  from  the  eyes  of  all. 

When  the  door  of  the  sedan-chair  was  closed, 
men  put  the  long  poles  by  which  the  chair  was  car- 
ried upon  their  shoulders,  and  the  wedding-proces- 
sion started  for  the  home  of  the  bridegroom.  First 
went  a man  carrying  a huge  piece  of  pork  ; this 
was  meant  to  attract  any  evil  spirits  that  might  be 
around  to  harm  the  young  bride.  It  was  expected 
that  while  the  evil  spirits  were  feasting  upon  this 
pork  the  bride  would  reach  her  new  home  un- 
harmed. Next  went  the  guide  to  show  the  way, 
and  then  a couj^)le  of  musicians,  and  after  them 


THE  ECLIPSE.— THE  WEDDING. 


117 


followed  the  tranks  or  boxes  containing  Lian’s 
furniture  and  clothes,  then  the  sedan  with  the 
bride,  and  following  her  were  the  people  sent  from 
the  bridegroom’s  home  to  escort  the  bride  ; last  of 
all  were  the  friends  of  Lian  who  wished  to  show 
their  good-will  by  accompanying  the  procession 
away  from  the  village. 

Hou  did  not  attend  the  wedding.  He  was  too 
busy,  he  said.  But  people  said  that  it  was  because 
he  had  no  heart;  all  he  thought  about  was  the 
money ; since  he  had  that,  his  daughter  might  be 
a slave  and  die,  for  all  he  cared.  Leng  Tso,  being 
only  a slave,  could  not  go. 

Soon  the  last  sound  of  the  music  died  away,  and 
Leng  Tso  sadly  followed  her  master  to  the  house. 
She  felt  more  lonely  than  ever  now. 

Rapidly  the  wedding-procession  hastened  on,  for 
the  men  who  carried  the  chair,  and  those  who  car- 
ried Lian’s  things,  thought  of  a feast  at  the  end  of 
their  journey.  The  way  was  long,  and  they  must 
take  time  to  rest  and  refresh  themselves.  But 
thoughts  of  the  rest  and  the  good  things  at  the 
end  shortened  the  stay  by  the  way.  As  Lian  was 
a bride,  it  was  improjier  for  any  one  to  open  the 
door  and  let  her  enjoy  the  air  ; so  she  was  kept  shut 
up  in  the  close  chair  until  the  home  of  her  husband 
was  reached. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  when  the  procession 
entered  the  village  of  Au  Lam  and  the  sedan  was 
set  down  before  Lian’s  new  home. 


118 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE- GIRL. 


One  of  the  company  had  liastened  on  before  to 
announce  the  coming  of  the  wedding-party,  so 
all  were  ready.  As  soon  as  the  bridal-chair  was 
on  the  ground  tlie  bridegroom  opened  the  door, 
and  for  the  first  time  the  bride  and  groom  met. 
He  led  her  at  once  to  the  ancestral  tablet  of  his 
home,  and  the  young  couple  bowed  three  times,  as 
if  to  say.  We  both  belong  now  to  you,  and  in 
future  we  both  will  worshij)  the  spirits  within  the 
tablet.  Then  he  took  his  bride  to  another  room, 
and  the  two  sat  at  a table  to  drink  each  a cup  of 
wine.  But  as  she  still  had  on  the  veil,  she  could 
only  pretend  to  drink,  while  her  husband,  without 
any  pretension,  drank  his  as  though  it  was  not  the 
first  time  he  had  tasted  wine. 

After  this  he  led  her  to  the  bridal-room,  where 
he  removed  her  mantle  and  veil  and  for  the  first 
time  saw  the  face  of  his  wife.  The  wedding- 
guests  were  then  admitted  to  the  bridal-room  to 
see  the  bride. 

Lian  was  forced  to  sit  quietly  and  say  not  a 
word  in  reply  to  the  remarks  made  about  her 
appearance.  More  than  one  woman  said — as  some 
do  about  young  married  people  in  other  countries 
than  China — that  she  was  not  pretty ; that  she  was 
not  nicely  dressed ; that  she  did  not  look  as  though 
she  would  make  a good  wife;  that  her  husband 
was  to  be  pitied ; that — But  we  need  not  repeat. 
Possibly  our  young  readers  may  have  heard  similar 
remarks  made,  when  the  bride  was  not  present,  in 


THE  ECLIPSE.— THE  WEDDIEG. 


119 


a countn’  that  is  not  on  the  other  side  of  the 
world. 

When  Lian  had  endured  as  well  as  she  could 
these  unpleasant  criticisms,  her  husband’s  intimate 
friends  were  invited  to  tell  what  they  thought  of 
the  new  wife.  The  husband  himself  pointed  out 
her  good  looks  and  called  their  attention  to  all  the 
good  qualities  that  he  could  possibly  think  his 
wife  possessed.  When  the  poor  girl  had  thus 
for  a long  time  been  stared  at,  until  her  heart 
was  sick  and  she  longed  more  than  she  ever 
thought  she  could  to  be  home  again  at  Thau 
Pau,  her  husband’s  parents  entered  the  room  and 
were  introduced  to  their  new  daughter-in-law. 

At  the  completion  of  this  last  part  of  the  cer- 
emony the  feast  was  ready,  and  the  guests  were 
invited  to  partake,  but  Lian,  instead  of  being  the 
most  honored  guest,  was  expected  to  wait  on  the 
others.  She  had  come  as  a wife  to  the  new  home, 
and  now  must  show  that  she  was  worthy  by  wait- 
ing on  her  husband  and  his  friends.  What  time 
could  be  better  for  this  than  on  her  wedding-day  ? 

Lian  learned,  before  many  days  of  married  life 
were  past,  that  to  be  a daughter  in  Thau  Pau  was 
far  better  than  being  a wife  in  An  Lam.  In  Thau 
Pau  she  had  seen  all  the  evils  around  her,  but  Au 
Lam  was  far  away,  and  her  imagination  had  paint- 
ed nothing  but  what  was  pleasant  there. 

This  feast  completed  the  ceremony,  and  Lian 
was  a married  \vomau.  Married  before  she  was 


120 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIEL. 


sixteen  yeai’S  of  age ! Married  and  wretched ! 
But  as  this  is  not  a history  of  Lian,  we  leave  her 
here ; especially  as  in  a story  the  writer  is  supposed 
to  have  done  his  part  when  he  has  told  of  the 
wedding. 


CHAPTER  X. 


ATTACKED  BY  ROBBERS. 

SHORTLY  after  the  wedding-procession  liad 
^ left  Thau  Pau  the  people  in  the  village 
were  startled  by  two  men  rushing  into  the  place 
with  the  cry, 

“ Robbers  ! robbers  ! Quick ! quick ! Get 
ready  to  fight  and  drive  them  away !” 

In  a moment  the  whole  village  was  in  an  uproar 
of  excitement.  The  two  men  explained  that  they 
started  away  on  business  early  in  the  morning,  and, 
after  going  a few  miles,  saw  a body  of  men  Ihutv- 
ing  toward  Thau  Pau.  These  were  armed,  some 
Avith  guns,  others  with  swords  and  spears,  and  it 
was  quite  certain  that  they  were  hastening  to  Thau 
Pau  to  fight  and  rob  the  people.  Instead  of  going 
on  their  journey  the  two  men  had  hidden  from  the 
armed  band,  and  as  soon  as  they  could  took  a round- 
about course  and  ran  back  to  Avarn  the  village  of 
danger.  They  said  that  the  plunderers  could  not 
now  be  far  away  ; so  Avhat  was  to  be  done  must  be 
done  soon,  or  the  men  Avould  be  upon  them. 

Each  one  in  the  village  armed  himself  as  quickly 
as  possible,  some  Avith  clubs,  others  with  spears  and 

121 


122 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-GIRL. 


pitchforks ; a few  had  bows  and  arrows,  and  some 
had  swords ; while  half  a dozen  old  guns  were 
brought  out  by  their  owners.  Every  man  knew 
that  he  must  fight  or  lose  his  property,  and  per- 
haps his  life.  Many  were  afraid,  but  there  was  no 
help  for  them.  They  could  not  run,  as  there  was 
more  danger  outside  of  the  town  than  within  its 
walls.  The  gates  were  shut  and  strongly  fitstened, 
and  men  were  stationed  by  the  part  of  the  wall  that 
had  not  been  fully  repaired.  The  women  and  chil- 
dren were  all  sent  into  the  houses,  and  forbidden  to 
come  out  at  all  until  the  danger  was  past. 

For  a while  the  people  waited,  until  some  began 
to  doubt  whether  the  armed  men  were  coming  to 
Thau  Pan  at  all.  Some  even  said  that  the  two  had 
been  frightened  by  seeing  laborers  going  to  their 
work.  The  two  men,  however,  insisted  that  they 
were  not  deceived,  and  that  it  would  soon  be  seen 
that  they  were  right.  While  all  were  waiting,  and 
not  a few  doubting,  a loud  yell  was  heard  just  out- 
side of  the  walls,  and  almost  at  the  same  time  heavy 
blows  were  struck  at  the  gates.  No  one  doubted 
now  that  the  band  of  men  were  robbers. 

For  some  years  past  there  had  been  trouble  be- 
tween the  people  of  Thau  Pau  and  those  of  a vil- 
lage some  distance  away  among  the  hills,  and  more 
than  once  these  mountain-village  people  had  at- 
tacked Thau  Pau,  and  not  only  stolen  much  prop- 
erty, but  had  killed  some  people.  Sometimes  they 
had  been  defeated  and  driven  away.  Of  late  the 


ATTACKED  BY  ROBBERS. 


123 


old  quarrel  had  been  renewed,  and  the  men  of  Toa 
Chhiu  (the  name  of  the  warlike  village)  thought 
that  this  would  be  a good  time  to  attack  their  en- 
emies. They  knew  that  there  was  to  be  a wedding- 
procession  from  Thau  Pau  to  Au  Lam,  and  they 
thought,  as  the  wedding  was  that  of  the  daughter 
of  the  richest  man  in  the  village,  most  of  the  peo- 
ple would  attend  it,  and  so  a good  opportunity 
would  be  afforded  for  an  assault. 

As  they  came  near  and  saw  that  the  gates  were 
shut,  although  it  was  da^'time,  they  w’ere  all  the 
more  certain  that  the  most  of  the  people  were  away, 
and  that  the  gates  had  been  closed  to  protect  the 
few  who  remained.  They  began  the  attack  with 
great  courage  and  force,  feeling  sure  that  they 
would  soon  burst  open  the  gates  and  enter  the  vil- 
lage. The  people  inside  remained  quiet,  deter- 
mining, as  soon  as  the  robbers  broke  down  the  gate, 
unitedly  to  attack  them  and  kill  or  frighten  them 
away. 

The  gates  were  strong  and  well  fastened.  Blows 
with  chibs  and  hammers  would  not  break  them, 
so  the  men  got  a heavy  stone ; to  this  they  fastened 
with  ropes  a number  of  sticks  by  which  to  carry 
it.  Then,  all  taking  hold  of  the  sticks,  they 
started  some  distance  from  the  wall,  and,  running 
as  swiftly  as  they  could,  swung  the  stone  with 
great  force  against  the  gates.  This  was  done 
several  times,  using  the  stone  as  a battering-ram 
until  the  gates  were  broken  in  pieces. 


124 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


As  all  had  been  silent  inside,  the  robbers  su])- 
posed  that  the  few  people  who  remained  in  the 
village  were  too  much  frightened  to  do  anything, 
and  that  it  would  be  an  easy  matter  to  rob  the 
place.  The  defenders  had  been  placed  on  each 
side,  but  not  in  front,  of  the  gates,  for  fear  that 
the  robbers  might,  after  making  a hole,  shoot  and 
wound,  or  even  kill,  some  But  as  there  was  quite 
a distance  from  the  outside  of  the  wall  to  the 
inside  of  the  court  (the  whole  depth  of  the  houses), 
the  robbers  could  not  see  anybody  within. 

After  the  gates  were  broken  down,  the  robbers 
rushed  through  with  a loud  yell,  expecting  at  once 
to  bike  possession  of  the  village  and  plunder  it  at 
their  leisure.  As  they  entered  the  court  the  men 
inside,  armed  with  clubs,  spears,  forks  and  swords, 
sprang  upon  them  with  a ferocious  scream  and 
began  to  fight  in  terrible  earnest.  The  robbers, 
surprised  at  the  number  of  armed  men,  frightened 
by  their  fearful  noise  and  shut  in  by  the  narrow 
passageway,  were  almost  unable  to  defend  them- 
selv’^es.  The  few  in  front,  attacked  and  surrounded 
by  the  many,  were  so  bruised  and  wounded  that 
they  were  unable  to  fight  or  run,  and  were  cap- 
tured. Those  behind,  seeing  how  well  the  village 
was  defended,  turned  back  and  I’an  away  as  swiftly 
as  possible,  leaving  their  wounded  companions 
prisoners  in  Thau  Pau.  While  some  of  the  peo- 
ple secured  the  prisoners,  the  rest  rushed  out  in 
pursuit  of  the  escaping  robbers.  The  race  was  not 


ATTACKED  BY  ROBBERS. 


125 


long,  for,  though  men  can  run  rapidly  M^hen  chas- 
ing frightened  robbers,  those  pursued  will  usually 
run  faster,  as  these  did.  AVhen  the  people  of 
Thau  Pau  saw  that  they  could  not  overtake  the 
robbers,  they  fired  their  guns  and  shot  arrows  at 
them  ; none  were  hurt,  though  the  robbers,  if  pos- 
sible, ran  faster  than  ever,  and  escaped.  The  people 
of  Thau  Pau  called  after  them  in  mockery,  asking 
if  they  would  not  come  back  and  take  something 
from  the  village,  and  told  them  they  had  better 
take  their  friends  away  if  they  wanted  them.  They 
invited  them,  too,  to  come  again,  and  said  that  the 
next  time  they  would  probably  keep  them  all  in 
the  village  as  guests. 

When  the  Thau  Pau  people  returned,  the  ques- 
tion was  what  should  be  done  with  the  prisoners, 
among  whom  were  two  or  three  of  the  leading 
men  of  Toa  Cidiin.  It  was  decided  to  keep  them 
bound  and  locked  up  for  a while,  until  it  could  be 
seen  what  was  best  to  be  done. 

After  the  fight  there  was  great  rejoicing  in  Thau 
Pau.  Each  man  who  had  helped  considered  him- 
self a hero,  and  was  ready  to  tell  of  the  marvelous 
deeds  he  had  done  in  the  battle.  Unfortunately 
for  their  boasting,  there  were  none  dead,  and  not 
enough  Avounded  to  satisfy  the  story  of  even  a 
single  one  of  the  \Aarriors.  Each  one,  however, 
felt  sure  that  he  had  given  nearly  all  the  Avounds 
received  by  the  robbers,  and  had  helped  in  the 
capture  of  nearly  all  the  prisoners. 


126 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


While  the  men  were  boasting  of  the  victory 
some  of  the  women,  So  Chim  among  them,  and 
with  her  Long  Tso,  went  to  the  temjde  and  offered 
a feast  to  the  gods  as  a thanksgiving  for  delivery 
from  the  robbers.  Few  of  the  men  offered  thanks 
to  the  gods,  thinking  that  they  themselves  rather 
than  the  gods  deserved  the  thanks. 

This  fight  with  the  robbers  was  quite  an  event 
in  the  history  of  Thau  Pan,  and  formed  the  chief 
subject  of  village-talk  for  many  days.  The  chil- 
dren would  occasionally  look  in  on  the  prisoners 
as  tliough  they  were  wild  beasts,  and  then  with  a 
shudder  go  away  to  their  gathering-place  under  the 
banyan  tree  to  talk  of  the  awful  robbers. 

While  the  men  were  kept  ])risoners,  the  elders, 
or  the  leading  men  of  Thau  Pan,  were  bargaining 
with  the  elders  of  Toa  Chhiu  for  the  ransom  of  tlie 
captives.  It  was  finally  agreed  to  send  them  back 
to  Toa  Chhiu  as  soon  as  a large  sum  of  money  was 
paid,  and  an  agreement  signed  by  the  head-men 
of  the  village  that  no  one  from  Toa  Chhiu  should 
again  attack  and  ])1  under  Thau  Pan.  The  Toa 
Chhiu  elders  were  willing  to  sign  the  agreement,  for 
they  knew  that  they  could  break  that ; but  the  sum 
of  money,  if  paid,  they  knew  could  not  be  got  back 
again.  There  was  no  help  for  them,  however,  for 
the  Thau  Pan  elders  threatened  to  lay  the  matter 
before  the  magistrates  if  the  money  was  not  soon 
paid.  As  this  would  probably  cost  much  more, 
and  perhaps  also  cost  the  lives  of  some  of  the  rob- 


ATTACKED  BY  ROBBERS. 


127 


bers,  the  agreement  was  signed  and  the  money 
finally  paid.  When  the  prisoners  were  set  free, 
there  arose  the  question  as  to  what  should  be  done 
with  the  ransom  money.  The  leading  men  were 
called  together  to  decide.  As  they  were  discussing 
the  matter  a servant  of  one  of  the  district  magis- 
trates appeared  among  them,  and  said  that  unless 
a large  share  of  the  money  was  given  to  his  master 
the  elders  would  be  punished  for  setting  robbers 
free  and  for  taking  money  from  them.  They  were 
obliged  to  agree  to  this  demand,  and  gave  a large 
portion  of  the  money  to  this  magistrate.  A day  or 
two  after,  a man  came  from  Toa  Chhiu,  and,  after 
saying  that  he  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  robbers, 
he  told  them  that  unless  they  gave  him  some  money 
he  would  complain  of  the  elders  to  the  magistrates. 
Other  demands  for  money  were  brought  in,  and 
before  long  there  was  hardly  any  left  to  decide 
about;  and  that  little  disappeared  somehow,  no  one 
seeming  to  know  vdiat  had  become  of  it. 

After  it  was  known  that  the  money  was  all  gone, 
the  people  of  the  village  talked  not  a little  of  the 
final  results  of  the  robbery.  Many  said  there  had 
been  dishonesty,  and  Hou  was  accused  of  having 
told  the  magistrate  whose  servant  demanded  a share 
of  the  money,  that  he  himself  might  get  a portion 
of  it.  Some  even  said  that  Hou  had  persuaded 
the  robbers  to  come  on  the  day  of  his  daughter’s 
wedding,  and  had  planned  the  whole  thing  that  he 
might  make  money  out  of  it.  But  others,  who 


128 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-OIBL. 


were  not  so  bad  themselves,  and  therefore  not  so 
able  to  suspect  others,  said  that  the  attack  of  the 
robbers  and  the  loss  of  the  ransom  were  the  result 
of  the  eclipse.  So  Chira  told  her  grandchildren 
and  Leng  Tso  one  day  that  she  knew  there  would 
be  a rebellion  or  an  attack  by  robbers  on  their  vil- 
lage when  she  saw  that  the  monster  had  swallowed 
the  moon  entirely. 

Khiau  asked  her, 

“ Grandmother,  how  many  villages  have  been 
attacked  by  robbers  and  lost  the  ransom  that  was 
paid  ?” 

“ I do  not  know  of  any  other,”  .said  she,  “ except 
our  own.” 

“How  many  villages,  then,”  asked  he,  “had  the 
moon-darkness?  Did  any  others  besides  Thau 
Pau  ?” 

“ Yes,”  replied  So  Chim ; “ I suppose  that  all 
the  villages  and  cities  in  the  Middle  Kingdom  had 
the  moon-darkness.” 

“How,  then,  does  it  happen,  grandmother,  that 
the  robbers  attacked  us  only?  Is  Thau  Pau  such 
a bad  place  that  moon-darkness  brings  all  the 
trouble ' here  ?” 

“Do  not  ask  such  questions,”  said  the  old  woman; 
“moon-darkness  brings  robbers  to  Thau  Pau,  and  it 
may  bring  sickness  to  some  other  village,  and  it 
may  send  famines  and  pestilences  and  floods  to 
different  jjarts  of  the  Middle  Kingdom,  and  thus 
afflict  them  all.” 


ATTACKED  BY  ROBBERS. 


129 


After  the  excitement  of  the  robbers’  attack  had 
died  away  and  Hou  had  time  to  think,  he  felt 
lonely ; but,  more  than  that,  he  missed  a house- 
keeper. Leug  Tso  was  too  young  yet  to  cook  and 
take  care  of  the  house,  besides  he  wanted  her  help 
in  the  field ; so  he  cooked,  and  let  her  do  the  other 
housework  while  he  was  boiling  the  rice  or  other 
food.  As  soon  as  the  meal  was  finislied  he  would 
hurry  ofp  to  the  field,  taking  Leng  Tso  along,  and 
leave  the  few  dishes  to  be  washed  by  the  little  girl 
while  he  was  cooking  the  next  meal.  Often  it  took 
him  much  longer  to  do  his  work,  and  this  left 
Leng  Tso  with  nothing  to  do.  It  troubled  Hou  to 
have  any  one  idle,  and  he  tried  hard  to  plan  work 
for  his  slave  while  he  was  cooking. 

One  day,  when  they  were  very  busy  in  the  field, 
he  told  her  that  she  might  go  home  and  cook  the 
dinner.  Leng  Tso  had  never  cooked  rice  before,  and 
did  not  know  how  much  to  use.  She  thought,  as 
her  master  ate  two  or  three  small  bowlfuls  and  she 
more  than  one,  she  ought  to  take  at  least  two  bowl- 
fuls to  cook.  After  it  had  boiled  a while  she  went 
away  for  a minute  from  the  little  furnace,  and  when 
she  came  back  the  rice  was,  as  she  said,  “jumping 
out  of  the  pot.”  Slie  pushed  the  lid  down,  but  yet 
the  rice  would  jump  out.  Faster  and  faster  it  came, 
until  she  thought  there  had  already  jumped  out 
three  times  as  much  as  had  been  put  in ; yet  the 
pot  was  full.  She  could  not  understand  it,  until 
she  remembered  a story  in  which  it  is  said  fairies 

9 


130 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


made  a single  piece  of  money  belonging  to  a poor 
child  grow  until  it  became  a very  large  one,  worth 
ten  thousand  times  as  much  ; then  she  thought  that 
fairies  were  adding  to  her  rice.  As  she  was  try- 
ing to  gather  up  what  had  been  spilled  Hou  came 
home,  and  not  only  scolded  her  for  wasting  the 
rice,  but  also  sla})ped  her.  He  told  her  that  if  she 
})utso  much  over  again  he  would  whip  her  severely, 
but  did  not  tell  her  that  the  reason  of  there  being 
so  much  rice  Avas  because  it  swelled  in  cooking. 

Hou  became  tired  of  cooking  and  housekeeping, 
and  after  a while  let  Leng  Tso  attend  to  both. 
This  pleased  the  little  girl  greatly,  for  not  only  did 
it  take  her  off  the  field  and  out  of  the  hot  sun  a 
great  deal,  but  it  made  ber  leel  that  she  was  mis- 
tress of  the  house  and  almost  a woman.  She 
would  work  as  fast  as  she  could  and  put  everything 
in  as  nice  order  as  possible,  and  then  hurry  out  to 
the  field,  lest  Hou  should  find  fault  and  again  do 
the  cooking  himself. 

They  had  a hard  day’s  work  one  day,  and  at 
night  Hou  told  the  little  girl  that  she  must  get  the 
breakfast  ready  the  next  morning  and  bring  it  to 
the  field,  for  he  would  be  too  busy  to  come  home 
to  eat.  The  next  morning,  very  early,  he  went  to 
his  work  without  waking  her,  and  the  child,  tired 
Avith  the  hard  Avork  of  the  day  before,  slept  on. 
The  sun  arose  and  slowly  crept  up  the  sky,  but 
there  came  no  breakfast  to  the  hungry  man  in  the 
field.  Hou  first  Avondered  Avhere  Leng  Tso  stayed, 


ATTACKED  BY  ROBBERS. 


131 


then  grew  angry  and  determined  to  punish  her  for 
being  so  slow.  Again  and  again  he  looked  for  her, 
but  his  slave-o-irl  did  not  come.  At  length  he 
would  wait  no  longer,  but  started  for  the  village. 
No  Leng  Tso  on  the  way,  nor  yet  to  be  seen  in  the 
village.  Hastily  he  burst  open  his  door ; everything 
was  as  he  left  it.  No  fire  had  been  made  in  the  fur- 
nace, and  no  sign  of  breakfast.  What  did  this  mean  ? 
Where  was  that  slave-girl?  Had  she  run  away? 
Had  she  gone  to  the  neighbors  ? What  had  become 
of  her?  Suddenly,  Hou  thought  she  might  be 
in  bed  yet.  He  burst  into  her  little  room,  and 
there  the  child  lay,  sound  asleep.  The  angry  man 
caught  the  arm  of  the  sleeper  and  without  a word 
threw  her  upon  the  floor,  and  then,  taking  up  a 
stick  that  lay  near,  began  beating  her.  Between 
the  strokes  he  said,  through  his  clenched  teeth, 

“ Asleep ! This  is  my  breakfast,  is  it  ? Well, 
this  is  yours ! This  is  the  way  you  mind  me ! 
Lazy,  sleepy  slave ! I will  teach  you !” 

In  vain  the  poor  child  screamed  and  begged  for 
mercy.  Hou  was  more  than  angry,  he  was  mad, 
and  showed  himself  to  be,  as  mad  people  often  are, 
brutish  as  well  as  foolish.  Not  until  he  had  beaten 
the  child  most  shamefully  did  he  stop,  and  then 
only  because  he  feared  the  people  might  hear  the 
screams  of  Leng  Tso  rather  than  because  he  wished 
to  show  mercy. 

Without  waiting  to  cook  any  breakfast,  and 
without  allowing  the  child  any  food,  he  ate  what 


132 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


he  could  find,  and,  ordering  her  to  follow,  went  to 
the  field.  There  he  kept  the  hungry  child  until 
late  in  the  afternoon  before  he  would  allow  her  to 
go  to  the  village  for  food.  He  told  her  that  it 
would  teach  her  not  to  sleep  so  late  again.  Yet 
Hou  felt  ashamed  of  himself.  Angry  peo{>le  usu- 
ally do  when  they  think  of  their  folly.  As  he  saw 
how  patient  his  little  slave  was,  and  how  hard  she 
tried  to  work,  as  if  to  make  up  for  sleeping  so  late, 
he  felt  sorry  and  wished  that  he  had  not  beat  her. 
He  made  up  his  mind  to  treat  her  more  kindly  in  the 
future.  As  she  was  walking  home  he  called  to  her 
and  told  her  that  she  need  not  come  back,  but 
might  do  up  the  work  at  home. 

When  the  child  had  satisfied  her  hunger  and 
washed  her  rice-bowl  and  chopsticks,  she  looked 
around  to  see  what  work  she  could  do.  She  re- 
membered seeing  Hou  So  once  in  a long  while — 
for  Chinese  are  not  very  cleanly — wash  otf  the  tile 
floor  and  clean  the  different  rooms,  and  she  thought 
that  it  was  time  to  do  it  again.  While  she  was 
hard  at  work,  Khiau,  who  had  seen  her  come  home 
and  knew  that  Hou  would  not  return  until  night, 
came  in  and  asked, 

“ What  are  you  doing?  Did  Hou  tell  you  to  do 
that  ?” 

“ No,”  said  she,  “ but  I thought  it  should  be 
done ; my  new  mother  used  to  do  it,  and  T wish  to 
take  care  of  the  house  as  she  did.” 

“ I thought  Hou  would  not  tell  you  to  do  it.  It 


ATTACKED  BY  ROBBERS. 


133 


takes  too  much  time  and  costs  too  much  to  buy- 
brushes  and  things  for  him  to  care  to  be  clean.” 
“ He  told  me  to  do  the  work  up  in  the  house,” 
said  Leng  Tso,  “ and  I want  him  to  know  that  I 
do  work  when  I am  in  the  house.  Will  you  help 
me  clean  the  house?  You  are  taller  than  I,  and 
can  reach  where  I cannot ; besides,  y'ou  are  strong.” 
At  once  the  good-natured  boy  began,  but,  being 
only  a boy,  he  did  not  know  much  about  house- 
cleaning. He  soaked  the  floor  and  table  and 
shelves  with  water,  but  did  not  understand  how  to 
dry  them.  Leng  Tso  said, 

“ I will  wash  and  diy  the  shelves  and  other 
things  that  are  low,  if  you  will  clean  ofi*  the  top 
ones.” 

Khiau  was  soon  on  a table  and  hard  at  work  re- 
moving some  things  from  the  highest  shelf,  that  he 
might  clean  it.  Perhaps  he  was  a little  careless  in 
handling  them,  for  he  let  a large  vase  fall  from  his 
hand  before  it  had  reached  the  table,  and,  dropping 
on  its  side,  the  vase  rolled  ofi*  on  the  floor.  Strik- 
ing on  the  hard  tiles,  it  broke  in  many  pieces. 

“ Oh,  see  what  I have  done,”  said  the  frightened 
boy.  “ What  will  Hou  say?  What  shall  I do?  I 
wish  that  I had  not  touched  it.” 

Leng  Tso  was  no  less  troubled,  and  would  have 
cried  had  she  not  felt  more  sorry^  for  Khiau  than 
for  the  vase.  She  was  afraid  that  Hou  would  whip 
him,  and  she  could  not  bear  to  think  of  the  kind 
boy  suffering  for  doing  her  a favor. 


134 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-GIRL. 


‘‘I’ll  tell  you  wliat  we’ll  do,”  said  Khlau  : “we 
will  bury  these  pieces,  aud  he  will  not  know  that 
the  vase  was  broken.” 

“That  will  not  do;  he  will  miss  it,  and  ask  where 
the  vase  is.  I must  tell  then,  and  he  will  beat 
me.” 

“ Why  can  we  not  put  all  the  pieces  on  the  shelf 
again  ? AYe  need  not  wash  that  shelf ; and  if  he 
asks  how  the  vase  became  broken,  you  can  say  that 
you  don’t  know  ; you  did  not  do  it.” 

“ No,”  said  Leng  Tso,  “ I will  not  say  that  I do 
not  know,  for  the  spirit  of  my  new  mother,  in  the 
other  room,  would  hear.” 

“ Then  we  will  just  put  all  the  pieces  back  on 
the  shelf  and  put  other  things  before  them,  so  he 
will  not  see ; and  if  he  does,  he  will  think  that  the 
rats  did  it.” 

To  this  the  little  girl  agreed,  and  the  bi’oken  vase 
was  hid  away  behind  other  things  on  the  shelf. 
Khiau  w'as  glad  to  hear  his  name  called  just  then, 
and  glad  to  get  away,  for  fear  that  he  might  break 
more  things.  When  he  had  gone,  Leng  Tso  was 
afraid  that  Hou  would  whip  her  or  Khiau  for  the 
accident,  and  thought  that  she  would  pray  the 
spirit  of  Hou  So  to  prevent  him. 

While  she  was  worshiping  and  praying  before 
the  tablet,  Hou  came  home.  Passing  through  the 
village,  he  heard  some  one  say,  “ There  goes  the 
man  who  deals  with  robbers.”  He  need  only  hear 
a word  to  remind  him  how  the  people  felt  toward 


ATTACKED  BY  ROBBERS. 


135 


him,  and  he  was  ready  to  take  his  rev’enge  on  any 
one  who  came  in  his  way.  He  saw  nothing  of 
Leng  Tso  when  he  entered  tlie  house,  but  he  did 
see  a small  piece  of  the  broken  vase,  that  the  chil- 
dren had  not  noticed,  lying  on  the  floor.  He  knew 
what  it  was,  for  the  vase  was  an  old  and  costly  one, 
and  the  only  thing  of  the  kind  in  his  house.  Pick- 
ing up  the  piece,  he  looked  on  the  shelf,  and  there, 
hidden  behind  the  other  things,  he  found  the  broken 
vase. 

Well  would  it  have  been  for  Leng  Tso  had  she 
been  away  then.  Hou  bit  and  gnashed  his  teeth 
together  as  he  said,  “ The  little  slave ! I will  teach 
her  to  break  vases  and  hide  them  away  ! She  will 
not  know  how  it  was  broken!  I’ll  teach  her!” 
He  called,  and  heard  the  faint  answer  of  the  child 
as  he  bade  her  come  to  him.  Slowly  she  obeyed. 
Hardly  had  she  come  into  the  room  before  he  caught 
her  arm  with  one  hand,  and  with  the  other  raised 
a stick  to  strike  her.  She  began  to  cry,  but  this 
made  the  angry  man  the  more  enraged  as  he  almost 
shouted, 

“ So  you  have  been  breaking  again,  have  you  ? 
I will  pay  you  for  your  carelessness.  Take  that, 
and  that !”  he  said  as  he  struck  her.  “ Tried  to 
hide  it,  did  you?  But  you  cannot  hide  this,  nor 
this.  I’ll  teach  you  !” 

The  poor  child,  terribly  frightened,  and  bruised 
by  each  heavy  blow,  could  not  help  screaming. 
Louder  and  louder  she  cried. 


136 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-GIRL. 


“ Don’t,  oh,  don’t ! Don’t  kill  me  ! I did  not 
break  the  vase  ! Please  don’t  kill  me  I” 

lion  had  no  pity,  and  might  have  killed  the  child 
had  she  not  broken  loose  from  him  and  escaped  into 
the  room  where  the  tablet  of  his  wife  was.  There 
she  threw  herself  on  her  knees  before  it  and  prayed, 

“ O spirit  of  my  new  mother,  save  me ! Do  not 
let  him  kill  me !” 

When  the  cruel  man  heard  this  prayer  the  stick 
dropped  from  his  hand,  and  he  stood  silent  as 
though  he  had  turned  to  stone. 

Just  then  Khiau,  Liong  and  several  other  boys 
entered  the  door.  They  had  heard  the  screams  of 
Leng  Tso ; and  Khiau,  hastily  telling  them  about 
the  vase,  had  persuaded  them  to  go  with  him  to 
save  the  child.  Hou  hardly  seemed  to  notice  them 
until  Khiau  said, 

“Leng  Tso  did  not  break  that  vase:  I did  it. 
She  had  nothing  to  do  with  it.  Whip  me,  if  any 
one  is  to  be  whipped.  But  I could  not  help  it.  It 
slipped  out  of  my  hands  while  I was  helping  Leng 
Tso  clean  the  shelves.  She  is  good.” 

“Yes,”  added  Liong,  “and  you  are  bad;  every- 
body says  so.” 

“ Out  of  my  house  !”  said  Hou,  his  passion  again 
rising  as  he  thought  of  the  hate  of  the  people  in 
the  village. 

Had  the  boys  not  run  away  at  once,  they  would 
have  sutfered  for  their  boldness.  Not  one  of  them 
stopped  until  he  was  safe  from  Hou,  and  for  many 


ATTACKED  BY  ROBBERS. 


137 


a day  they  wondered  that  they  had  dared  face  the 
angry  man  at  all  in  his  own  home.  Nothing,  they 
thought,  was  too  bad  for  him  to  do. 

When  they  had  gone,  Hou  called  gently  to  Leng 
Tso,  and  said, 

“ No,  you  did  not  break  the  vase.  But  do  not 
let  those  boys  come  in  here.  They  are  very  bad ; 
you  are  not.” 


CHAPTER  XI. 


KHIAU’S  VISIT  TO  THE  CITY. 

SOME  tTme  after  the  robbers’  attack,  some 
of  the  men  of  tlie  village,  Khiau’s  father 
among  them,  had  business  in  the  large  city  on  the 
coast,  and,  to  Khiau’s  great  delight,  his  father 
told  him  that  he  might  go  along.  A day  or  two 
before  starting  the  happy  boy  told  Leng  Tso  and 
his  other  young  friends  of  this  proposed  trip,  and 
promised  to  tell  them  on  his  return  what  he  saw. 

All  missed  the  kind-hearted  boy,  and  none  more 
than  did  Leng  Tso.  Khiau  was  different  from 
most  of  the  boys ; he  was  kind  and  pleasant  to 
everybody,  and  treated  the  girls  almost  as  well  as 
he  did  the  boys,  so  that  every  one  liked  him.  To 
Leng  Tso  he  was  a noble  hero.  Yet  Khiau  was 
not  what  in  America  is  called  a “girl-boy” — one 
who  acts  like  and  plays  much  with  girls.  He  was 
a strong,  rough-and-tumble  fellow,  who  was  ready 
for  the  wildest  fun,  but  under  everything  he  did 
he  showed  that  he  had  a heart  that  cared  for  the 
feelings  of  others. 

After  the  party  had  been  away  ten  days,  late 
138 


KHIAU'S  VISIT  TO  THE  CITV. 


139 


one  afternoon  they  came  to  the  village.  As  soon 
as  it  was  known  among  the  children  that  Khiau 
was  back,  many  of  them  hurried  to  his  home  to 
see  how  he  looked  and  to  hear  what  he  had  to  say. 
But  he  M'as  too  tired  and  hungry  to  say  much, 
thoucrh  he  was  the  same  Khiau  that  had  left  them 

o 

ten  days  ago,  only  he  was  a proud  boy  now.  Had 
he  not  been  to  the  great  city  with  a party  of  men  ? 
and  had  he  not  seen  more  than  had  all  the  children 
put  together?  For  once  in  his  life  he  was  “cross.” 
But  then  he  was  hungry.  People  who  are  hungry 
swallow  their  smiles  to  keep  themselves  from  starv- 
ing. To  their  questions  he  said, 

“ I Saw  more  than  any  of  you  ever  saw,  but  I 
don’t  want  to  tell  you  now.” 

“Well,”  said  Liong,  “ if  you  don’t  wish  to  tell,^ 
you  need  not ; but  if  you  are  so  proud  of  yourself j 
perhaps  we  had  better  build  a little  temple  and 
burn  incense  to  you.” 

“ Going  to  the  great  city  is  more  than  some 
people  can  caiTy,”  said  another  boy.  “ Don’t 
think  it  is  safe  to  be  with  such  people.  Come, 
let  us  go.” 

As  all  were  leaving,  Khiau  called  out, 

“ Do  not  go ; I am  not  angry,  but  I am  hungry 
and  tired.  Let  me  rest,  and  when  Leng  Tso  and 
the  others  who  are  working  have  done,  I will  tell 
you  what  I saw.” 

In  the  evening  all  the  village-children  who 
could  get  away  from  home  were  under  the  old 


140 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-OIRL. 


tree  listening  to  Khiau’s  story  of  his  visit  to  the 
city. 

“ We  walked  until  nearly  noon  before  we 
reached  the  river,”  said  he,  “and  then  we  went 
on  a boat  which  was  just  ready  to  start.  It  was  fun 
to  go  down  on  the  water  and  feel  that  we  need  not 
walk.  Riding  on  a boat  going  with  the  current 
is  easy,  but  when  the  boat  must  be  pushed  up 
stream,  as  many  we  met  had  to  be,  then  it  is  as 
easy  to  walk,  unless  you  don’t  push.  Our  boat 
had  so  many  things  on  and  was  loaded  so  deep 
that  in  some  places  the  Avater  was  not  deep  enough, 
and  we  stuck  fast.  Often  the  men  could  not  push 
the  boat  loose,  and  had  to  jump  into  the  Avater,  and, 
with  their  shoulders  under  the  side,  to  lift  and  push 
the  boat,  Avith  us  in  it,  through  the  shalloAV  place. 
Sometimes  there  AA'as  so  little  Avater  that  they  had 
to  dig  a channel  through  the  sand  AAoth  hoes  and 
boards.  I AA’anted  to  help  them,  but  my  father 
said  I AA'as  too  small.” 

“Were  you  too  small,  Khiau?”  a.sked  his 
younger  brother,  avIio  felt  proud  to  think  that  it 
A\as  his  own  brother  aa'Iio  had  been  there. 

“Small?  No;  I am  as  big  as  some  of  those 
boatmen,  almost.” 

“ What  had  the  boat  for  a load  ?”  asked  Liong. 

“Many  things;  I forget  AA'hat  all.  I was 
Avatching  the  boatmen  and  other  boats  and  the 
neAV  things  on  shore  so  much  that  I did  not  think 
to  look.” 


KHIAU’S  VISIT  TO  THE  CITY. 


141 


“ Did  you  like  to  be  on  the  boat  ?”  asked  Leng 
Tso. 

“ Yes ; I want  to  be  a boatman.  They  go  every- 
where and  see  everything.” 

‘‘Don’t  be  a boatman,  Khiau,”  said  Leng  Tso, 
softly. 

“ If  you  all  ask  so  many  questions,  how  can  I 
tell  what  I saw?” 

“ Children,  keep  still !”  said  Liong.  “ I will 
ask  questions  if  any  are  to  be  asked. — Go  on, 
Khiau.” 

“At  night  the  boatmen  anchored  the  boat  and 
went  to  sleep.  I could  not  sleep  much ; on  the 
boat  it  was  so  difterent  from  home.  Early  in  the 
morning  we  started  again,  and  long  before  noon 
came  to  the  great  Foo  city.” 

“ Is  that  Ha  Bun  ?”  asked  Leng  T.so. 

“No;  Ha  Bun  is  a great  deal  farther.  The 
Foo  city  is  the  largest  city  I ever  saw.” 

“ How  many  large  cities  have  you  seen  ?”  asked 
Liong. 

“ I saw  more  than  five  when  I went  to  Ha  Bun. 
The  Foo  city  has  high  walls  all  around  it,  and  is 
full  of  people.  Some  of  the  boatmen  said  it  had 
eighty  ten  thousands  of  people.  We  wanted  to 
stop,  but  we  could  not  do  so ; the  men  said  they 
must  hurry  to  get  down  to  the  bay  in  time  for 
the  large  boats  that  go  out  with  the  tide.” 

“ What  is  the  tide,  Khiau  ?”  asked  one  of  the 
children. 


142 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


‘‘It  is  when  the  water  rises  and  falls/’  answered 
Khiau. 

“ AVhat  makes  it  rise  and  fall  ?”  was  asked. 

“ I don’t  know,”  replied  Khiau. 

“ I have  heard  Gran  say  that  his  uncle  who  was 
a sailor  told  him  that  the  water  on  the  ocean  rises 
and  falls  twice  each  day  and  night,”  said  a boy; 
“ and  his  uncle  said  that  there  is  a great  turtle  out 
in  the  ocean  who  turns  over  twice  every  day,  and 
that  makes  the  water  rise  and  fall.” 

“ I do  not  believe  it,”  said  Khiau.  “ There  is 
no  turtle  big  enough.  Gan’s  uncle  could  not  have 
seen  much  of  the  ocean.  But  I want  to  tell  you 
of  a large  bridge  across  the  river  by  the  Foo  city. 
It  is  all  made  of  stone.  There  are  stone  walls 
built  up  from  the  bottom  of  the  river  four  times 
as  high  above  the  water  as  a tall  man,  and  then 
very  large  stones  are  laid  across  these  walls.” 

“ How  could  the  boat  go  between  the  walls  ?” 
asked  Liong. 

“ ddiey  were  far  apart,  and  the  stones  were  very 
long.” 

“ Were  they  as  long  as  a man  ?”  asked  a boy. 

“As  long  as  a man!  Yes;  as  long  as  ten  men, 
and  longer  too.”  * 

* The  author  measured  some  of  the  stones  of  this  bridge, 
and  found  tliem  more  than  sixty  feet  long,  and  some  even 
over  eighty,  and  three  feet  thick  as  'well  as  broad.  Another 
bridge  made  of  such  stones,  in  Southern  China,  has  some  stones 
even  larger,  but,  as  we  did  not  measure  them,  we  cannot  give 
their  size. 


KHIAU’S  VISIT  TO  THE  CITY. 


143 


“ Khiau,”  said  Liong,  “ does  it  make  everybody 
tell  large  stories  to  go  past  the  Foo  city?” 

“ It  is  no  story  at  all,  but  the  truth,”  answered 
Khiau,  indignantly. 

“Who  ever  heard  of  stones  as  large  as  that?” 
asked  Liong. 

“ I saw  them,”  replied  Khiau.  “ If  you  do  not 
believe  me,  then  ask  my  father  or  some  of  the 
other  men.” 

“Khiau  does  not  tell  lies,”  said  Leng  Tso. — 
“ But  they  were  very  big  stones,  were  they  not, 
Khiau?  Did  they  grow  there?” 

“ Grow  there !”  said  Liong ; “ Khiau  put  them 
there  himself” 

“ If  you  do  not  believe  me,  there  is  no  need  to 
tell  anything.” 

“ No  matter ; you  saw  them  : we  did  not.  Go 
on,  Khiau,”  said  Liong. 

“Well,  when  we  came  to  the  place  where  the 
river  runs  into  the  large  water  of  the  bay,  we  went 
into  another  larger  boat.  Ours  was  too  small  to  go 
on  large  water.  The  wind  blew  hard,  and  the  boat 
rocked  very  much.  First  I liked  it;  then  I wished 
that  it  would  stop,  but  it  did  not.  Soon  I felt 
strange.  Then  my  head  went  round  very  fast,  but 
my  eyes  stood  still,  and  I could  hardly  stand  up. 
I did  not  want  to  go  to  Ha  Bun  any  more,  but 
wished  that  I was  home,  I felt  so  ill.  I thought 
that  I should  die,  and  soon  did  not  care  if  I did, 
for  I was  so  sick.” 


144 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-GTRL. 


“ What  made  it  ?”  asked  Mi.  “ Had  you  eaten 
something  not  good  ?” 

“ I thought  so  at  first,  and  then  thought  that 
the  men  on  the  boat  had  given  us  poison.  Father 
and  all  from  the  village  were  sick,  but  the  boat- 
men were  not.  After  a while  one  of  the  men  saw 
me  crying,  and  he  said  that  I was  only  boat-sick 
and  would  be  well  as  soon  we  got  ashore ; and  I 
was.  I don’t  want  to  be  boat-sick  again.  It  is 
very  bad.  First  you  think  you  will  die;  then  you 
want  to.  But  you  can’t  die.” 

“ How  does  it  make  you  feel  ?”  asked  Liong. 

“ I don’t  know.  I felt  as  though  I had  swal- 
lowed a rabbit  and  two  cats.  First  the  cats  chased 
the  rabbit,  and  then  they  fought  for  it,  and  at  last 
fought  each  other  all  to  pieces.” 

“ I don’t  understand,”  said  Liong. 

“ Go  on  a boat  and  get  boat-sick  ; then  you  will 
understand.” 

“How  large  was  the  water?”  asked  Liong — 
“as  large  as  three  rice-fields?” 

“ Three  rice-fields  ! It  was  so  long  that  I could 
hardly  see  across  it.  It  was  just  full  of  water. 
There  was  a great  deal  more  water  than  land.  It 
took  us  three  hours — and  we  sailed  fast,  too — to 
cross  the  bay.” 

“What  did  you  see  in  Ha  Bun?”  inquired 
Liong. 

“ ]\Iore  than  I can  tell  you  in  a month  of  nights. 
Ha  Bun  is  a large  city,  but  not  so  large  as  the  Foo 


KHIAU’S  VISIT  TO  THE  CITY. 


145 


city.  I will  not  tell  you  of  that  to-night,  but  of 
what  I saw  on  one  of  the  large  boats.  The  boat 
came  from  one  of  the  outside  kingdoms,  and  the 
people  on  it  were  not  like  our  people.  They  have 
white  faces,  and  some  have  yellow  hair  and  blue 
eyes,  and  their  noses  are  much  longer  than  ours. 
They  do  not  know  how  to  talk — that  is,  the\'  do 
not  talk  as  we  do.  I could  not  understand  a word 
they  said,  but  a man  who  lived  in  Ha  Bun,  and 
who  understands  what  they  say,  went  on  the  boat 
with  us  and  told  us  what  they  said.” 

“Hid  you  say  tliey  have  yellow  hair?”  asked 
a boy. 

“Some  have,  and  some  have  hair  all  over  their 
faces,  so  that  they  look  like  little  lions  who  walk 
on  their  hind  feet  and  have  no  tails.  But  they  all 
wear  their  hair  cut  short ; none  of  them  have  a cue, 
and  none  shave  their  heads.  They  do  not  look 
like  people.” 

“ How  dirty  their  heads  must  get!”  said  one  of 
the  children. 

“ No  cue !”  said  another.  “ What  had  they  done 
that  it  was  cut  off?” 

“ Nothing.  They  never  let  their  hair  grow  long 
and  braid  it  as  we  do.  But  the  strangest  thing  was 
a black-faced  man.  His  face  was  as  black  as  char- 
coal, and  his  hair  all  curled  up  ai’ound  his  head : 
I think  he  never  could  have  combed  it.  This 
black-faced  man’s  lips  were  thick  and  his  nose 
flat.” 


10 


146 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


“ What  made  that  man  so  black  ?”  asked  Khiaii’s 
little  brother, 

“ I asked  father,  and  he  asked  the  man  who  was 
with  ns,  and  he  asked  one  of  the  white-faced  boat- 
men. The  boatman  said  that  the  black-faced  man 
lived  in  a country  where  the  children,  as  soon  as 
they  are  born,  are  put  into  an  oven,  and  this  one 
they  had  forgotten  to  take  out  until  he  was  burnt 
all  black  and  his  hair  had  curled  uj).  The  man 
said  that  he  would  never  get  over  it.  I do  not 
know  that  it  is  so.” 

“ Did  you  see  any  of  these  white-faced  peojile 
eat  ?”  asked  Liong.  “ Did  they  eat  rice  as  we  do  ?” 
“No;  I did  not  see  them  eat,  but  the  man  who 
was  with  us  said  that  they  do  not  eat  rice.” 

“ Not  eat  rice !”  echoed  two  or  three ; “ what  do 
they  eat  ? Are  they  savages  ? They  do  not  know 
what  is  good  if  they  don’t  eat  rice.” 

“ They  eat  meat  and  large  cakes  made  of  flour, 
cut  into  thin  slices ; and  on  these  they  spread  thick- 
ened oil  made  from  cows’  milk.  And  they  do  not 
eat  their  food  with  chopsticks,  but  put  it  into  their 
mouths  with  split  pieces  of  iron.” 

“ Is  the  iron  sharp  ?”  asked  one.  “ Don’t  they 
stick  their  mouths  with  it.” 

“I  don’t  know.  Sometimes  they  put  their  food 
into  their  mouths  with  a knife.” 

“ With  a knife  !”  said  Mi.  “ Do  not  they  have 
very  large  mouths,  then  ?” 

“ AVhy  ?”  asked  Leng  Tso. 


KHIA  U’S  VISIT  TO  THE  CITY. 


147 


“They  would  cut  their  mouths  wider  if  they 
had  a knife  in  when  eating,”  was  answered. 

“Khiau,  do  those  people  not  know  any  better 
what  to  eat  and  how  to  do  it  ?”  asked  his  younger 
brother. 

“ I suppose  not : they  do  not  know  much.  If 
you  had  seen  their  clothes,  you  would  wonder  at 
them.  Some  had  their  clothes  tight  around  them, 
and  so  tight  around  their  necks  that  they  could 
hardly  breathe.  Then,  above  their  other  clothes, 
they  have  around  their  necks  a white  piece  of 
cloth  as  stiff  as  a board,  and  around  this  a black 
or  white  cloth,  or  one  of  some  other  color.  These 
must  be  very  warm  and  bad  to  wear  in  hot  weather. 
I did  not  hear  any  reason  why  they  wear  them, 
but  thought  perha23S  it  is  because  the  men  who 
wear  them  belong  to  somebody — -just  as  we  have 
bands  around  the  necks  of  dogs  and  goats  to  tie 
them  fast  with,  and  to  let  people  know  that  they 
belong  to  somebody.” 

“ What  strange  j^eople  they  must  be  ! Are  they 
what  are  called  the  ‘outside  barbarians’?”  asked 
Mi. 

“That  is  what  some  jieople  call  them  in  Ha  Bun. 
Yet  they  do  know  a great  deal.  In  some  things 
they  know  as  much  as  Middle-Kingdom  people  do.” 

“What  did  they  drink,  Khiau?”  asked  Liong. 
“Do  they  drink  tea  as  we  do,  or  nothing  but 
water  ?” 

“ I do  not  think  that  they  have  any  tea  in  their 


148 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


country,  for  the  large  boat  came  to  buy  a load  of  it 
to  take  back.” 

“Xo  tea!”  echoed  several.  “Poor  barbarians! 
What  do  they  di’ink?” 

“ They  drink  a kind  of  water  that  stays  hot  all 
of  the  time  without  any  fire.  One  of  the  boatmen 
gave  me  some.  Oh  how  it  did  burn  ! It  seemed 
like  fire-water.  I did  not  like  it,  and  told  the  man 
I did  not  want  any,  but  he  said  it  would  make  a 
man  of  me.  If  that  were  the  only  thing  that 
would  make  a man  of  me,  I would  rather  stay  a 
boy.  I did  drink  some,  and  it  made  me  feel  funny. 
I wanted  to  fight. 

“What!  you  fight?”  said  Mi. 

“Yes;  I do  not  know  why.  I felt  very  brave, 
and  yet  I could  not  walk  straight.  It  is  strange 
water.  On  shore  we  saw  two  white-faced  men,  who 
had  been  very  thirsty,  fighting.  I think  that  it  is 
fighting-water.” 

“I  wonder,”  said  Liong,  “if  it  is  not  what  sol- 
diers and  officers  and  rulers  drink?  for  they  want 
to  fight.  Have  those  barbarians  nothing  else  to 
drink,  Khiau  ? How  hard  it  must  be  to  live  with 
tliem !” 

“ I do  not  know  whether  they  drink  anything 
else  or  not ; but  the  man  told  us  that  they  drink  a 
gr(>at  deal  of  this  fighting-water.  Perhaps  they 
have  no  cold  water  in  their  country,  or  it  may  be 
that  they  do  not  know  any  better  than  to  drink 
that  fire-stuff.” 


KHIAU’S  VISIT  TO  THE  CITY. 


149 


“ When  I am  a man,”  said  Khiau’s  little  brother, 
“I  mean  to  go  to  their  country  and  tell  them  not 
to  drink  it.  I Avill  show  them  how  to  drink  tea.” 

“ Do  they  smoke  tobacco,  Khiau  ?”  asked  a large 
quiet  boy. 

“Yes.  Quite  a number  of  the  men  smoked 
from  pipes,  just  as  our  people  do,  only  their  pipes 
are  very  much  larger.” 

“ Then  they  are  not  so  far  behind  Middle-King- 
dom people,”  said  the  large  boy.  “ If  they  know 
how  to  smoke,  they  know  something.” 

“ I am  glad  that  I do  not  live  among  them,  if 
they  must  wear  those  things  about  their  necks  and 
eat  with  a knife  and  drink  fire-water,”  said  a little 
boy. — “ Don’t  you  feel  sorry  for  them,  Leng  Tso  ?” 
With  this  the  children  separated. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


SOMEBODY  MARRIES  HOU. 

HOUGH  Hou  would  not  have  owned  it,  he 


felt  very  lonely  after  Lian  was  married.  He 
wanted  Long  Tso  in  the  field  to  help  him,  and  he 
wanted  a housekeeper  at  home.  He  found  that, 
somehow,  people  visited  his  house  when  he  and 
Leng  Tso  were  in  the  field,  and  now  and  then 
took  away  “.something  to  remember  him  by” — 
in  other  words,  things  were  stolen.  After  he  had 
beaten  his  slave  so  unmercifully  and  without  cause, 
he  was  ashamed  to  strike  her  again,  and,  as  she 
always  seemed  good,  he  hardly  dared  scold  Leng 
Tso ; so  he  became  lonely  because  he  had  no  one 
to  scold.  Like  some  men  who  do  not  live  in  China, 
Hou  did  a great  deal  of  grumbling.  But  grum- 
bling is  hard  work  unless  there  be  some  one  to 
grumble  at.  Besides,  Hou  had  very  little  company 
in  the  village.  Few  cared  to  talk  to  him  at  all, 
and  since  the  robbers’  attack  people  had  kej)t  away 
from  him  as  though  he  himself  were  a robber. 

One  day  a woman  whose  business  it  was  to 
bring  about  marriages — for  there  are  such  peo- 


150 


SOMEBODY  MARRIES  HOU. 


151 


pie  in  China — came  to  see  him,  and  told  Hoii 
that  he  ought  to  marry  again.  She  said  she  knew 
of  a woman  who  would  just  suit  him.  Hou 
thought  that  if  he  acted  as  though  he  did  not 
care  for  a wife,  he  might  get  one  more  easily  and 
for  less  money.  Some  men  do  the  same  in  this 
country.  By  and  by  he  said  that  if  he  could  get 
a young  and  pretty  wife  very  cheap,  he  might 
marry  again,  but  he  did  not  care  about  one  now. 
The  woman  told  him  that  there  was  one  who  was 
pretty,  though  not  very  young,  and  to  get  her  he 
need  not  give  much  money. 

“Not  young?”  asked  Hou.  “Is  she  a widow, 
then  ?” 

“ No,”  said  the  woman.  “ I will  tell  you  her 
history.  When  she  was  very  young  she  was 
engaged  to  be  married  to  a young  man,  but  he 
died  before  the  wedding-day  came.  She  then 
went  to  live  with  the  parents  of  her  intended  hus- 
band, determining,  out  of  respect  to  him,  never  to 
marry.  But  they  lost  all  their  property  and  have 
lately  died,  so  she  is  left  without  even  a home,  and 
now  she  must  marry  to  get  a place  to  live.  She  is 
good  and  pretty.” 

“How  much  money  must  be  paid?”  asked 
Hou. 

“Sixty  dollars;  and  that  is  cheap,  too,  for  one 
so  good  and  so  true  to  her  intended  husband.  Of 
course  she  will  be  the  same  to  another.  You  can- 
not get  a better  wife.” 


152 


THE  CHiyESE  SLA  VE-GIRL. 

‘Sixty  dollars!  'Why,  a young  wife  is  only 
worth  fiftv,” 

“ hat  did  you  get  for  Lian?” 

“Oh,  Lian  was  a number  one  good  girl.  There 
are  few  like  her,” 

“So  is  this  a number  one  good  woman.” 

“ I will  not  give  half  that  money  for  her.  If 
I get  a wife,  it  must  be  a cheap  one,  and  good  too. 
A widow  will  do.  Widows  are  cheap.  Do  you 
know  of  any  ?” 

“Yes;  I know  of  a good  widow.  She  is  not 
very  young,  but  she  is  number  one  good  to  take 
care  of  a house,  and  she  has  a son  almost  grown 
to  be  a man.” 

“ Boys  are  bad  and  troublesome.  They  get  sick 
and  it  costs  too  much  for  medicine  to  make  them' 
well ; and  if  they  die,  it  costs  a great  deal  to  bury 
them,  I would  rather  have  a widow  with  daugh- 
ters, for  when  they  grow  up  men  will  give  money 
f()r  them.  F or  how  much  can  this  widow  be  got  ? 
How  old  is  she?” 

“She  is  thirty-six  years  old,  and  thirty  dollars 
will  pay  for  her.  That  is  very  cheap.” 

“Thirty-six  years  old!  and  for  thirty  dollars! 
Too  much ! I don’t  want  her.  She  will  soon  be 
too  old  to  work.  Ten  dollars  is  a large  price.  I 
will  give  ten.” 

“ No,  no !”  said  the  woman  ; “ that  would  hardly 
buy  you  an  old  Avoman.  This  one  is  strong,  and 
good  too.  Think  ! only  thirty  dollars  for  a wife!” 


SOMEBODY  MARRIES  HOU. 


153 


But  Hou  would  not  pay  so  much.  He  thought 
that  it  would  be  too  much  risk  to  have  two  to  feed, 
and  to  doctor  if  sick.  So  he  told  the  woman,  but 
in  his  own  mind  he  thought  it  would  be  a great 
help  to  him  to  have  that  boy.  No  bargain  was 
made,  and  the  woman  left,  promising  to  see  Hou 
again.  A few  days  after,  she  came  again  and 
offered  to  make  a bargain  for  another  widow,  with- 
out children.  But  Hou  had  thought  a great  deal 
of  that  boy,  and  finally  agreed  to  pay  twenty  dol- 
lars for  the  widow  who  had  a son.  As  money  is 
not  usually  given  for  boys  in  China,  Hou  said  noth- 
ing about  this  one,  only  he  thought  of  the  work 
that  his  stepson  would  do. 

The  bargain  made,  next  was  the  setting  of  the 
day  for  the  marriage.  Hou  wanted  it  as  soon  as 
possible,  but  no  wedding-feast.  He  and  the  widow 
were  too  old,  he  said ; but  he  thought  of  the  cost 
for  a feast.  After  the  widow  had  been  consulted 
the  jnarriage-day  was  set,  and  not  far  off. 

The  day  before  the  wedding  Hou  told  Leng  Tso 
to  clean  the  house  and  prepare  for  some  company. 
Then  he  told  her  that  he  would  be  married  the 
next  day,  and  she  must  tiy  to  get  So  Chim  to  help 
her  make  some  cakes  for  the  wedding.  So  Chim 
came  in  and  made  all  the  preparation  possible; 
but,  as  Hou  said  that  there  would  be  only  a few 
guests,  not  a great  deal  of  any  kind  of  food  was 
prepared. 

While  the  two  were  working  Leng  Tso  asked. 


154 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


“ Do  you  think  that  the  new  Hou  So  * will  be  a 
mother  to  me  instead  of  my  other  new  mother?” 

“ I do  not  know,”  answered  So  Chim ; “ I am 
afraid  not.” 

“ Why?  Is  she  not  good?  Do  you  know  her?” 
“Yes,  I did  know  her  years  ago;  but  I do  not 
wish  to  tell  you  much  about  her  now.  Wait,  and 
you  will  learn  yourself.  When  she  comes  you  must 
be  good  to  her ; love  her,  and  it  may  be  that  she 
will  love  you.” 

“Are  there  any  women  who  will  not  love  poor 
little  girls  who  want  to  be  good  and  want  to  be 
loved  ? I thought  that  men  only  are  so.  But  I 
will  try  to  be  good  and  to  love  her,  and  I hope 
that  she  will  love  me,  or  at  least  be  kind  to  me, 
when  she  knows  how  much  I want  a mother.” 
Before  going  home  So  Chim  went  with  Leng 
Tso  into  the  room  where  the  tablet  of  Hou  So 
stood. 

“ We  must  put  this  away,”  said  she.  “ It  will 
not  do  for  the  new  w'oman  to  see  it.” 

“ But,  grandmother,  how  can  I worship  my 
new  mother’s  spirit  if  that  is  put  away?” 

“You  must  come  here  when  the  new  woman 
does  not  see  you.  We  will  not  put  it  away,  but 
only  set  it  back  behind  the  other  things,  and  you 

* So,  added  to  a man’s  name,  means  “ the  wife  of as,  Hou 
So,  tlie  wife  of  Hou.  Chim  lias  the  same  meaning,  with  the 
difference  that  “ So  ” is  a younger  woman  than  “ Chim.”  Cliim 
is  also  applied  to  an  old  woman  or  one  beyond  fifty  years  of  age. 


SOMEBODY  MARRIES  HOU. 


155 


may  bring  it  forward  when  you  worship ; only  be 
sure  you  set  it  back  again.  The  new  woman  may 
not  wish  to  see  it.” 

The  wedding-day  came.  Hou  said  that  the 
procession  would  not  come  until  night,  so  he  spent 
the  most  of  the  day  in  the  field,  but  left  Leng  Tso 
at  home  with  orders  to  watch  the  way  by  which 
the  new  wife  would  come,  and,  if  she  saw  the 
party  coming  before  he  came  from  the  field,  to 
run  and  call  him.  He  was  home,  however,  in 
time.  Near  night  the  wedding-party  came  into 
the  village.  Instead  of  three  or  four  guests,  there 
were  more  than  twenty  ; and  as  it  was  so  near 
night  none  could  go  back,  and  Hou  was  not  only 
obliged  to  provide  a feast  for  them  all,  but  lodg- 
ings too,  and  a breakfast  the  next  day.  When  he 
saw  how  many  there  were  he  was  angry,  yet  dared 
not  show  his  feeling,  but  he  determined  tliat  his 
wife  and  her  son  should  suffer  for  it  after  the 
wedding. 

So  Chini,  who  was  the  only  one  whom  Hou  had 
invited,  felt  more  troubled  even  than  Hou  when 
she  thought  how  small  the  preparation  was  for  so 
many.  While  the  people  were  getting  ready  for 
the  feast  she  called  Leng  Tso,  and  tliey  two  hurried 
to  the  good  old  woman’s  home,  and  with  the  help 
of  Khiau.  brought  a large  quantity  of  provisions 
and  quietly  set  them  on  the  table.  But  the  new 
wife,  who,  as  soon  as  she  dared,  had  taken  a look 
through  part  of  the  house,  saw  that  something  was 


156 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-GIRL. 

wrong,  and,  overhearing  Khiau  say,  ‘‘I  think  that 
there  vill  be  enougli  now  for  all  to  eat,”  guessed 
what  the  trouble  was.  She  had  already  heard 
that  Hou  was  not  very  liberal,  and  she  had 
brought  so  many  people  along  to  shame  him  before 
his  friends.  But,  as  he  had  no  friends,  he  was  not 
ashamed,  though  very  angry. 

^ When  Hou  came  to  the  table  and  saw  what  So 
Chim  had  done,  he  gave  the  kind  old  woman  a look 
of  thanks  that  she  understood.  It  said,  “ You  are 
the  best,  the  only,  friend  I have.  You  have  done 
me  a kindness  that  I will  not  forget.”  And  he 
did  not  forget  it.  Yot  only  did  he  afterward  give 
back  more  than  So  Chim  had  given  him,  but  he 
made  the  old  lady  a present  of  real  value.  Peo- 
ple wondered.  They  said  it  was  the  only  present 
that  Hou  had  ever  given  anybody. 

Before  the  feast  Hou’s  wife  asked, 

“ Where  are  your  friends  ?” 

‘‘I  have  none  in  the  village,”  said  he,  '‘and  I 
did  not  think  it  worth  while  to  invite  my  relatives 
to  come  from  a distance.” 

"Ami  not  good  enough  for  them  to  see?”  she 
asked. 

Hou  made  no  answer,  but  looked  surprised. 
He  had  never  had  a woman  speak  to  him  so 
before,  and  thought  best  to  keep  silent.  He  saw 
in  her  eye  something  that  he  did  not  like,  and  her 
tightly-closed  lips  told  him  that  the  new  Hou  So 
was  a different  woman  from  the  other.  She  too 


SOMEBODY  MARRIES  HOU. 


157 


was  silent,  but  her  look  told  that  she  would  have 
an  understanding  some  day.  Tlie  woman  who 
made  the  marriage-bargain  had  told  her  about 
the  man  she  was  to  marry,  and  she  determined  to 
let  Hou  know  that  this  world  was  not  made  for 
men  only. 

The  wedding-feast  passed  quietly  and  pleasantly, 
and  Leng  Tso  wished  that  weddings  might  come 
often.  On  the  next  day  all  the  guests  but  three 
left,  and  then  the  little  girl  learned  that  weddings 
do  not  always  bring  joy. 

At  tlie  wedding  Hou  wondered  which  one  in  the 
company  was  his  wife’s  son.  He  thought  it  strange 
that  no  one  introduced  the  boy,  but  concluded  that 
he  would  nait  until  the  next  day  to  ask. 

There  was  one  thing  that  troubled  Hou  more 
than  this.  He  could  not  help  thinking  that  his 
wife  was  not  just  the  kind  of  woman  he  expected 
to  get.  She  was  not  pretty,  but  he  did  not  care 
for  that ; he  knew  that  women  in  China  lose  their 
beauty,  when  they  have  any,  long  before  they  are 
thirty-six  years  old.  He  did  not  many  for  good 
looks,  but  to  get  a woman  to  do  his  housework  and 
take  care  of  his  home.  He  was  afraid  that  this 
woman  would  not  do  all  he  wished.  That  one 
question,  “Am  I not  good  enough  for  them  to  see?” 
with  the  look  that  she  gave,  made  Hou  afraid  that 
instead  of  marrying  a wife  he  had  been  married 
to  a wife — that  is,  that  she  would  be  mistress  rather 
than  he  master.  Hou  had  heard  of,  but  had  never 


158 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


seen,  such  women  in  China.  They  are  not  quite  so 
plenty  there  as  in  some  other  countries.  He  did 
not  like  that  question ; and  the  look — he  was  sure 
that  meant  something  unpleasant.  He  wished  that 
he  had  known  about  her  befoi’e  the  bargain  was 
made.  Then  he  said  to  himself, 

“If  she  is  not  all  I want  her  to  be,  one  thing 
must  be  remembered — she  did  not  cost  very  much. 
It  takes  a great  deal  more  than  twenty  dollars  to 
buy  a number  one  good  wife.  Then  this  one  brings 
a son  who  can  work : it  is  not  so  bad  a bargain. 
If  she  will  not  do  all  I wish,  I will  make  him 
work  the  harder  for  it.” 

The  next  morning,  before  the  guests  had  left 
them,  Hou  asked  his  wife  which  of  the  people  was 
his  new  son.  She  looked  at  him  for  a moment,  and 
then  said, 

“Wait  until  all  of  our  guests  have  gone;  then  I 
will  tell  you.” 

Early  in  the  day  all  but  two  women  and  one 
man  went  away.  This  man  was  the  husband  of 
one  of  the  women,  and  of  course  was  too  old  to  be 
Hou’s  stepson.  Hou  wondered  where  the  boy  could 
be,  and  thought  that  he  ought  to  be  there  to  begin 
work  with  him  at  once.  Again  he  asked  his  wife 
about  her  son. 

“ Our  friends  have  not  all  gone,”  said  she ; and 
the  look  that  .she  gave  made  Hou  think  that  it 
would  be  as  well  to  say  nothing  more  until  those 
j)cople  were  gone.  Since  they  acted  as  if  they 


SOMEBODY  MARRIES  HOU. 


159 


meant  to  stay  all  clay,  Hon  thought  that  he  might 
as  well  go  to  the  field  without  saying  anything  to 
anybody.  He  started  ofiF,  but  his  wife  saw  him 
and  called  out, 

“ Where  are  you  going  ?” 

He  told  her  that  he  had  some  work  that  must  be 
done,  and  he  thought  to  do  it  while  she  entertained 
the  company. 

“ You  are  not  going  to  work  the  morning  after 
you  are  married,  are  you  ?”  asked  she,  “ and  that, 
too,  when  we  hav^e  guests  in  our  house?” 

Hou  thought  that  she  had  no  right  to  say  whether 
or  not  he  ought  to  work ; it  was  not  her  business 
to  tell  him.  Besides,  those  guests  were  hers,  not 
his ; he  did  not  want  anything  from  them.  Why 
should  they  stay?  He  did  not  like  her  calling  the 
house  “ our it  was  his  house,  not  hers.  More 
than  all,  he  did  not  like  the  way  in  which  she 
looked  at  him  and  spoke  to  him.  She  looked  right 
into  his  face,  and  talked  as  though  she  were  mistress 
and  not  the  woman  whom  he  had  married.  He 
had,  however,  enough  self-respect  to  say  nothing 
unkind  to  his  wife  in  the  presence  of  her  friends, 
and  that,  too,  the  day  after  he  Avas  married ; but 
he  made  up  his  mind  to  settle  it  all  soon.  He  said 
that  the  Avork  could  Avait,  for  the  sake  of  friends ; 
so  he  came  back,  and  even  tried  to  be  sociable. 
After  a little  Avhile  his  wife  asked  him  to  get  a pail 
of  AA’ater.  Hou  Avas  astonished ; his  first  Avife  had 
neA'er  asked  him  to  do  that.  Leng  Tso  had  gone 


160 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-OIEL. 


on  an  errand,  so  he  could  not  say,  “Let  the  slave- 
girl  get  it.”  His  wife  was  busy,  whilst  he  was 
doing  nothing ; so  Hou  got  the  water,  thinking, 
meanwhile,  that  his  time  would  soon  come.  This 
was  not  the  only  thing  that  the  new  Hou  So  made 
her  husband  do  that  day. 

After  dinner,  when  she  did  not  notice  him,  he 
walked  out,  telling  the  guests  that  some  of  the  vil- 
lage-people wished  to  see  him,  and  went  to  work  in 
tlie  field. 

Every  little  while  Hou  stopped  to  think  how  he 
would  teach  his  wife  to  obey  and  not  command  him. 
All  he  need  do  would  be  to  tell  her  what  to  do, 
and  he  felt  sure  that  she  would  listen.  Her  first 
husband  had  probably  been  a poor  weak-minded 
fellow,  and  she  supposed  that  all  men  were  the 
same.  He  would  let  her  know  that  they  were  not. 

Before  he  had  been  two  hours  in  the  field  Leng 
Tso  came  and  said  that  Hou  So  wished  to  see  him 
at  home  immediately.  The  child  did  not  know  why. 

“Go  back  and  tell  her  I will  not  come,”  said  he 
at  first ; and  then,  as  he  thought  it  would  not  do  to 
let  the  guests  hear  such  a message,  he  concluded  to 
go  and  see  what  was  wanted.  Those  people  would 
be  oflF  soon,  and  he  could  settle  matters  then.  He 
would  appear  pleasant  until  they  wei’e  away.  When 
he  reached  the  house  his  wife  asked  if  the  village- 
people  did  not  know  better  than  to  call  a man  away 
from  his  newly-married  wife  and  their  friends,  and 
to  keep  him  away  for  so  long  a time.  She  told  him 


SOMEBODY  MARRIES  HOU. 


161 


that  their  friend,  the  man,  wished  to  go  home,  but 
did  not  care  to  go  without  bidding  farewell  to  so 
kind  a host,  but  now  it  was  too  near  night  for  him 
to  leave  the  village. 

Hou  felt  sorry  that  he  had  gone  to  the  field,  if 
by  doing  so  he  had  kept  the  man  a day  longer ; yet 
he  was  relieved  that  his  wife  blamed  the  village- 
I)eople  for  his  absence.  He  remembered  how  they 
had  made  his  first  wife  hate  him,  and  thought  that 
he  might  now  turn  this  one  against  them  before 
she  could  meet  the  people.  He  told  her  he  did  not 
believe  that  they  liked  his  marrying  her;  that  they 
did  not  like  strangers,  at  any  rate.  He  was  glad 
to  see  that  she  seemed  to  believe  him. 

That  night,  when  the  guests  were  asleep,  Hou 
asked  his  wife  again  about  her  son. 

“ I said  wait  until  our  guests  have  left ; they 
have  not  gone  yet.  You  would  not  have  me  tell 
a lie,  would  you?”  i-eplied  she. 

“ When  are  they  going  ?”  asked  Hou.  “ They 
stay  very  long.” 

“ They  will  go  soon ; but  as  I am  a stranger 
here,  and  you  say  that  the  people  do  not  like 
strangers,  our  friends  will  stay  until  I am  used  to 
the  place.  Since  the  man  could  not  go  to-day,  he 
Avill  wait  and  go  with  .them.  The  women  have 
promised  to  sew  and  help  me  make  up  clothes  for 
you  and  Leng  Tso;  it  is  such  a long  time  since 
you  have  had  any  one  to  attend  to  your  clothing 
that  you  both  need  many  new  things.” 


162 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


Hou  hardly  knew  what  to  say;  he  would  not 
find  fault  with  his  wife  now.  He  saw  that  she 
cared  for  his  things,  for  she  had  worked  hard  all 
day,  and  he  had  no  heart  to  say  anything  unkind. 
Thus  days  passed.  It  was  nearly  a week  before 
the  company  left,  but  the  time  had  been  long 
enough  to  teach  Hou  that,  while  his  new  wife  was 
a good  worker,  yet  she  meant  to  have  things  her 
own  way. 

As  soon  as  the  guests  were  gone,  Hou,  who  had 
wondered  every  day  when  his  stepson  would  come, 
asked  his  wife  where  her  boy  was  and  why  he  did 
not  come  with  her. 

“ I have  no  son,”  said  she. 

“What!  no  son?  The  woman  who  arranged 
the  marriage  said  you  had.” 

“I  had  a son  once,  but  after  the  death  of  his 
father  an  uncle  adopted  my  boy,  and  he  is  no 
longer  mine.” 

“ Then  the  woman  lied  and  cheated  me.  When 
I bargained  for  you,  I expected  to  have  your  son 
to  help  me  work.” 

“Boys  are  not  sold  with  their  mothers,  you 
know.  It  is  bad  enough  that  Avomen  must  be 
sold,  and  to  any  man  who  happens  to  have  the 
money  to  buy  them.” 

“But  I ha\'e  been  cheated.  You  have  cheat- 
ed me.” 

“ In  Avhat  Avay  have  I cheated  you  ?” 

“ By  not  bringing  your  son  with  you.” 


SOMEBODY  MARRIES  HOU. 


163 


“ I did  not  say  that  I would.  I made  no  bar- 
gain with  you  at  all.  The  woman  who  did  knew 
that  my  son  had  been  adopted.” 

“ Why  did  not  she  tell  me  ?” 

“ Did  you  ask  her  ?” 

“ Why  should  I ? She  said  that  you  had  a sou. 
She  deceived  me — cheated  me — and  I mean  to 
have  what  I paid  for.” 

“ You  did  not  pay  for  my  son ; you  paid  for 
me.  How  much  did  you  pay?” 

“ Twenty  dollars.” 

“Tiu  Hou,  I am  only  a woman,  but  I am 
strong,  and  I have  come  to  use  my  strength  for 
you.  I left  friends  who  loved  me,  and,  though 
they  are  poor,  they  would  willingly  have  kept  me 
as  long  as  I lived.  I left  them — left  every  friend 
I have  in  this-  world — to  come  among  strangers,  to 
come  and  work — yes,  if  need  be,  give  my  life — for 
you.  What  do  you  give  in  return?  Twenty  dol- 
lars ! For  that  you  buy  a wife — flesh,  blood,  heart, 
life,  soul — to  be  yours,  and  yours  alone.  You  may 
make  her  work,  you  may  scold  her,  beat  her,  starve 
her,  kill  her,  and  none  hinder.  Who  has  been 
cheated,  you  or  the  woman  you  bought?” 

Hou  was  astonished.  He  had  never  before 
heard  a woman  speak  so,  and  the  idea  that  a wife 
had  any  rights  had  never  entered  his  head.  For  a 
time  both  were  silent.  At  length,  gathering  his 
thoughts — yet,  after  what  he  had  heard,  hardly 
daring  to  say  what  had  been  in  his  mind  for  the 


164 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-GIRL. 


past  few  days — he  began  to  tell  her  what  he  wished 
her  to  do.  Gaining  courage  as  he  spoke  he  said 
that  he  did  not  wish  her  to  order  him  to  do  any- 
thing; he  was  mastei’,  and  he  the  one  to  be  obeyed. 
'\\’hen  he  stopped  to  see  how  she  took  his  words 
she  replied  slowly  but  firmly ; 

“ Tin  Hon,  I am  your  wife,  and  not  your  slave. 
I will  work  with  you  and  for  you,  but  will  not  be 
driven  by  you.  AVe  may  as  well  understand  each 
other  now.  I knew  about  you  before  I became 
your  wife ; I knew,  too,  how  you  had  treated  your 
first  wife ; and  I know  that  you  expect  to  treat  me 
in  the  same  way.  But  do  not  try  it.  Do  not  be- 
gin, or  you  will  regret  it!  I know  what  I can  do.” 

Hou  was  frightened.  He  saw  that  his  wife  was 
in  earnest,  and  that  she  was  not  afraid  of  him. 
Her  look  rather  than  her  words  told  him  that  she 
would  dare  to  do  anything  if  he  should  try  to 
make  her  obey  him.  Hou  So  was  a brave  woman 
rather  than  a bold  one;  she  would  not  get  into 
trouble  if  she  could  help  it,  but  she  would  not 
yield  if  trouble  came.  Her  husband  was  a cow- 
ard, and  she  saw  that  he  feared  her.  A brave 
Avoman  can  conquer  a coward,  though  a giant. 

Had  his  wife  suddenly  turned  into  a tiger,  Hou 
would  not  have  been  much  more  frightened  than  he 
was  now.  He  made  no  answer,  but  soon  turned 
away  like  a whipped  dog,  and  from  this  time 
seemed,  in  the  presence  of  his  wife,  like  another 
man.  Sometimes  his  old  self  appeared  for  a while, 


SOMEBODY  MARRIES  HOU. 


165 


but  a few  words,  or  even  a look,  from  his  wife 
made  him  what  the  people  in  the  village  called 
“Hou  of  the  second  wife.”  With  others,  when 
she  was  not  near,  he  remained  the  same  Hou  that 
we  have  seen. 

Leng  Tso,  who,  in  another  room,  had  heard  this 
conversation,  was  frightened  too.  She  had  hoped 
to  find  a mother  in  the  new  wife,  but  trembled  in 
the  presence  of  a woman  who  was  not  afraid  of 
Hou,  and  after  this  she  too  was  afraid  of  Hou 
So.  The  many  superstitious  stories  she  had  heard 
of  tigers  and  other  animals,  and  even  evil  gods, 
coming  in  human  bodies  to  punish  bad  people, 
made  her  think  that  her  new  mistress  was  one 
of  these,  and  she  resolved  to  pray  the  gods  and  the 
spirit  of  the  dead  Hou  So  to  save  her  from  the 
power  of  this  awful  woman. 

To  add  to  the  fear  of  the  child,  shortly  after 
this,  as  Leng  Tso  was  placing  the  tablet  of  the 
dead  woman  in  front,  that  she,  might  worship  the 
spirit,  the  new  Hou  So  saw  her,  and  not  only  scolded 
the  child,  but  slapped  her,  for  touching  the  tablets. 
The  woman  thought  that  she  was  handling  them  in 
play ; the  little  girl  thought  that  her  mistress  would 
not  allow  her  to  worship  the  spirits,  for  fear  that 
they  might  ju-event  her  harming  people.  Leng 
Tso  was  certain  now  that  Hou  So  was  a tiger,  or 
some  other  evil  one,  in  a woman’s  body;  and, 
while  she  hated  her  for  strikinoj  without  anv  rea- 
son,  she  dreaded  the  wife  of  Hou  more  than  ever. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

DEATH  OF  SO  CHUI. 

A FTER  Hou’s  wedding  So  Chim  was  very 
feeble.  She  complained  of  being  tired  and 
wanting  rest.  The  preparation  and  the  excitement 
of  the  wedding  were  more  than  her  strength  would 
bear.  She  was  growing  old,  and  could  not  endure 
very  much  care  or  work. 

For  several  days  she  tried  to  work  a little,  but 
each  day  lay  down  to  rest,  and  longer  every  day 
than  the  one  before.  She  was  gradually  losing 
her  strength;  but,  as  she  said  nothing  of  being 
sick,  except  that  she  was  tired,  none  were  alarmed. 
One  morning  she  did  not  leave  her  bed  ; and  when 
Khiau’s  mother  came  in  to  see  her,  So  Chim  said 
that  she  was  too  tired  to  get  up,  and  would  rest  all 
day.  At  night,  when  her  son  came  home,  he  saw 
that  she  was  very  feeble,  and  called  in  a doctor. 
But  it  was  of  no  avail.  The  next  day  she  was 
more  feeble  still.  At  night  Khiau  met  Leng  Tso 
and  said, 

“ Do  you  know  that  grandmother  is  sick  ? The 
doctor  gave  her  medicine  yesterday  and  cjime  again 
to-day,  but  she  is  worse  to-ni<>ht.” 

166 


DEATH  OF  SO  CHIM. 


167 


“ May  I go  in  to  see  grandmother  ?”  asked 
Leng  Tso.  “ She  is  my  grandmother  too,  you 
know.” 

“ Yes,”  said  Khiau,  “ but  you  must  be  very 
quiet.  Mother  and  father  say  we  must  make  no 
noise  at  all  in  the  house.” 

Quickly  the  two  children  went  to  the  house; 
softly  they  climbed  the  stairs  and  entered  the  room 
where  the  sick  woman  lay.  She  seemed  asleep, 
and  did  not  hear  them  until  Khiau  said  softly, 
“Grandmother,  are  you  asleep?”  And  as  the 
old  woman  turned  to  see  who  spoke  he  added,  “I 
have  brought  our  Leng  Tso  to  see  you.  She  did 
not  know  that  you  were  sick  until  I told  her 
to-night.” 

The  little  girl  timidly  took  the  old  woman’s 
hand  as  she  said, 

“ Grandmother,  I am  sorry  that  you  are  sick. 
Will  you  try  to  get  well  soon  ? We  all  want  you 
to.  You  must  not  stay  sick.” 

“ ]\Iy  child,”  said  the  old  woman,  “ grandmother 
will  never  be  well  again.  She  is  going  down  into 
the  dark  shadows  of  the  spirit-land.” 

“She  thinks  that  she  will  die,”  whispered  Khiau 
to  Leng  Tso,  “ but  we  cannot  do  without  a grand- 
mother.” Tlien,  S])eaking  in  a louder  voice,  he 
asked,  “ Grandmother,  if  we  pray  to  the  gods  and 
offer  incense  and  food  and  wine  to  them,  would  not 
they  make  you  well  again?” 

“ Ko,  my  boy ; I am  too  old,  and  my  life  is  not 


168 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


worth  it.  I feel  that  I must  go,  and  nothing  can 
be  done  to  keep  death  away.  I wish  that  we  need 
not  die.  It  is  liard  to  leave  all  that  we  love.  In 
the  spirit- world  where  I am  going  I will  be  as  a 
new-born  infant,  and  with  no  father  or  mother 
to  care  for  me.  It  is  very  strange  and  all  dark 
there.” 

“ Grandmother,  don’t  talk  about  dying,”  said 
Khiau.  “ You  are  good — you  have  always  been 
good ; and  the  gods  will  not  take  you  away  now, 
while  you  are  so  much  needed  and  you  want  so 
much  to  stay.” 

“All  must  die,  my  child;  if  not  before,  they 
must  when  they  are  old.  I am  old  now,  and  my 
time  has  come.” 

“ If  you  go,  we  shall  all  be  like  plants  from 
whieh  the  water  is  taken ; we  shall  wither.  Father 
and  mother  may  be  like  the  sun  and  moon  to  us, 
but  the  sun  and  moon  cannot  make  plants  live 
and  groiV  without  water.” 

“ Khiau,”  answered  the  old  woman,  “ perhaps 
if  I go  you  will  think  more  of  the  gods  and  will 
worship  them  more.  Grandmother’s  heart  is  often 
heavy  when  she  sees  how  you  neglect  and  mock 
at  them.” 

“What  is  the  good  of  worshiping  gods?  If 
they  will  make  you  well,  then  I will  offer  them 
incense  and  food  every  day ; but  if  they  take  you 
away,  I will  not.  If  people  who  serve  them  faith- 
fully received  more  good  than  those  who  do  not. 


DEATH  OF  SO  CHIM. 


169 


then  I would  believe  that  serving  the  gods  is 
profitable.” 

“ You  should  serve  them  because  they  wish  you 
to  do  it.” 

“ What ! if  I get  nothing  in  return  ? That 
will  be  all  on  one  side.” 

“ ]\Iy  child,  the  gods  do  givm  favors  to  those  who 
obey  them.” 

“ Grandmother,  yon  serve  the  gods  faithfully, 
father  does  not ; do  you  receive  more  favors  than 
he  does?” 

“ Perhaps  he  receives  good  for  his  mother’s 
sake.” 

“Neither  of  you  has  gained  half  the  riches 
that  Hou  has,  and  that  many  others  who  do  not 
go  to  the  temple  at  all  have.” 

“ What  will  you  do,  Khiau,  when  you  must 
die,  if  you  have  not  served  the  gods  when  you 
lived  ?” 

“ Grandmother,  how  much  do  the  gods  help  you 
now?”  asked  the  boy. 

“ You  must  not  ask  any  more  questions,”  said 
So  Chim ; “ I am  tired.” 

But  the  question  of  Khiau  troubled  her.  If 
the  gods  did  not  help  her  now,  when  would  they  ? 
She  seemed  asleep,  but  was  thinking,  and  her 
thoughts  were  all  sad.  The  children,  not  wish- 
ing to  disturb  her,  quietly  left  the  room,  agreeing 
to  meet  again  the  next  evening  and  pay  another 
visit  to  the  old  lady. 


170 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE- GIRL. 


The  next  day  she  was  very  weak,  but  toward 
night  seemed  stronger,  and  sent  for  her  son  and 
his  wife  and  all  the  children  to  come  and  see 
her.  Leng  Tso  was  there  too,  at  the  old  woman’s 
request. 

“ My  children,”  said  she,  “ I am  a little  stronger 
now,  but  it  is  the  brightening  of  the  lamp  Avhose 
oil  is  gone,  and  now  the  wick  is  burning.  In  a 
few  hours  the  wick  will  be  ashes,  the  light  gone 
out,  and  darkness  be  around  the  soul  of  the  old 
woman.  I have  two  or  three  favors  to  ask  of  you 
all — the  last  that  I will  ever  seek  from  you ; let 
them  be  granted  to  a dying  old  woman.” 

Then,  turning  to  her  son  and  his  wife,  she 
said, 

“ Will  you  pray  for  and  care  for  the  wants  of 
your  mother’s  soul  in  the  spirit-world?  It  will 
have  no  others  to  care  for  it.  It  may  be  helpless 
many  years  after  you  both  are  gone;  will  you,  then, 
as  soon  as  you  can,  arrange  that  the  wife  of  Khiau 
be  our  Leng  Tso?  They  will  not  forget  the  spirit 
of  their  grandmother.” 

To  both  of  these  requests  they  answered  that 
while  life  lasted  they  would  do  everything  possible 
to  obey  the  wish  of  so  good  and  excellent  a mother. 
It  had  long  been  talked  of  in  the  family,  when  Leng 
Tso  was  not  present,  that  as  soon  as  they  were  able 
to  buy  a wife  for  Khiau,  Leng  Tso  should  be  the 
one.  But  Khiau’s  father  was  too  poor  yet  to  pay 
the  price  that  Hou  would  demand. 


DEATH  OF  SO  CHUL 


171 


After  these  requests  So  Chim  called  Khiau  and 
Leng  Tso  to  her  and  said, 

“ Khiau,  grandmother  will  soon  be  in  the  spirit- 
world;  she  will  want  many  things  then.  Will  you 
care  for  her  spirit?” 

“ Grandmother,”  replied  the  boy,  “ if  I live  to 
be  a hundred  years  old,  I will  not  for  one  day  for- 
get you.  When  I am  a man  your  tablet  will  be  in 
my  house,  and  not  only  will  you  have  all  that  you 
need,  but  every  day  I will  worship  you.  ]\Iy  grand- 
mother shall  be  my  god.” 

“ No,  no,  my  child !”  said  she ; “ do  not  worship 
me.  I am  only  a poor  old  woman.  I go  into  the 
land  of  spirits  a beggar,  and  it  is  I who  will  wor- 
ship you  if  you  care  for  me.  Some  day  I hope 
that  your  father  will  get  Leng  Tso  as  your  wife. 
Will  both  of  you,  my  children,  care  for  the  poor 
old  woman?” 

“Grandmother,”  said  Leng  Tso,  “do  you  think 
that  the  little  girl  whom  you  have  loved  so  much 
will  stop  loving  your  spirit?  When  she  was  a little 
stranger  and  all  alone,  with  no  heart  to  love  or  pity 
her,  then  a grandmother’s  heart  loved  the  little 
slave-girl.  You  tried  to  make  me  happy  when 
none  cared  for  me.  You  will  find  many  who  will 
love  you  in  the  spirit-world  ; but  if  none  care  for 
you,  tell  them  what  you  did  for  Leng  Tso.  Let 
them  see  how  much  you  can  love,  and  all  the 
sjnrits,  all  the  gods,  will  love  you.” 

“My  child,  when  they  see  how  well  you  and 


172 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-OIRL. 


Khiaii  care  for  me,  then,  it  may  be,  they  will  think 
that  some  on  earth  love  the  old  woman,  and  per- 
haps some  spirits  will  love  me  too;  but  the  gods  do 
not  love  as  we  do.” 

“Grandmother,”  said  Khiau,  “I,  Long  Tso  and 
all  of  us  will  let  the  spirits  know  that  there  was 
one  good  woman  in  the  world,  and  that  she  is  our 
grandmother.  We  will  all  take  care  of  your  sjiirit. 
But  we  do  not  want  you  to  die.  There  are  no  more 
grandmothers  for  us  if  you  go.” 

After  giving  them  all  the  advice  that  she  could, 
and  urging  them  to  worship  the  gods  every  day,  So 
Chim  said,  as  she  raised  her  hand, 

“ The  wick  is  burning  uj) ; my  light  is  going  out. 
Don’t  leave  me.  It  is  growing  dark.  Must  I go, 
and  go  alone?  Oh,  where  are  the  gods  whom  I 
have  tried  to  serve?  Will  they  leave  me  now, 
when  I need  them  so  much?” 

Khiau,  seeing  that  his  father  and  mother  were 
unable  to  comfort  the  dying  woman,  said, 

“It  may  be,  grandmother,  that  there  is  a god 
whom  you  do  not  know  who  will  care  for  you  in 
the  spirit-world.” 

“Oh,  if  there  were  one — only  one — who  would 
take  care  of  the  poor  old  woman,  then  it  would  not 
be  so  dark,  so  lonely.  None,  none  !” 

“Grandmother,”  continued  the  sobbing  boy,  “you 
do  not  know.  Perhaps  there  is  one.  Shall  I ask, 
if  there  be  such  a god,  that  he  will  take  care  of 
you  ?” 


DEATH  OF  SO  CHIM. 


173 


Hardly  waiting  to  hear  her  whispered  “Yes,” 
the  boy  knelt  down  and  began : 

“O  Heaven  above,  if  there  be  a god  who  cares 
for  dying  people,  and  who  loves  their  souls  after 
death,  will  you  send  him  to  take  care  of  one  of  the 
best  grandmothers  that  ever  lived?  A worthless, 
stupid  boy  bows  to  Heaven  making  this  prayer.” 
“ It  may  be  that  there  is  such  a god,”  said  So 
Chim  to  the  boy  as  he  rose  from  his  knees.,  j 
“If  we  find  out  about  a better  god  than  we 
know  now,  may  we  worship  him,  grandmother?” 
asked  Khiau. 

“Yes,”  came  from  the  lips  that  were  moving  as 
if  in  silent  prayer. 

The  face  of  So  Chim  lost  its  anxious,  troubled 
look.  Her  eyes  were  closed  and  she  seemed  asleep, 
but  the  restless  motion  of  the  hand  and  the  lips 
moving  constantly  told  that  she  was  awake  and 
praying.  Suddenly  opening  her  eyes  and  trying 
to  rise,  as  she  looked  around  she  asked, 

“ Where  am  I?  Who  are  you?”  and  then,  when 
she  recognized  them  all,  she  sank  back  sadly  with, 
“Was  it  only  a dream?  Is  there  no  such  god?” 
After  a few  moments  of  silence  she  spoke  in  a 
whisper:  “Father,  mother,  husband,  I am  coming;” 
and  then,  in  a louder  voice,  “ Oh,  they  have  for- 
gotten me!  They  are  gone!  I am  alone!  Alone!” 
The  old  look  of  trouble  was  back  again.  Just  then 
the  room  seemed  to  grow  lighter:  the  sun,  hidden 
all  day  by  clouds,  was  setting.  So  Chim,  noticing 


174 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIEL. 

the  liglit,  said,  it  is  not  a dream  ! The  bright- 
ness is  coming  back!  Dark  here,  but  light  over 
the  mountains ! Will  He  cany  me  over  to  it?” 
There  was  a moving  of  the  hands  as  though  to 
reach  up  to  be  carried,  and  then  they  fell  by  her 
side.  Her  lips  Avere  still ; hands  moved  not,  and 
So  Chim  had  gone.  The  kind,  good  old  woman 
Avas  dead. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

BARGAINING  FOB  A WIFE. 

OT  long  after  the  burial  of  So  Chim  her  re- 


quest about  a wife  for  Khiau  was  talked  of, 
and  Khiau  asked  his  father  when  he  meant  to 
make  the  bargain  for  Leng  Tso.  Jiong,  Khiau’s 
father,  Avas  an  easy,  good-natured  man,  always 
ready  to  do  things  to-morrow  that  ought  to  be 
attended  to  to-day,  and  he  replied  to  his  son, 

“ It  will  be  time  enough  after  a while.  Hou 
may  ask  a very  high  price  if  he  knows  that  Ave 
mean  to  try  to  get  Leng  Tso.” 

“ Why  not  buy  her  noAV  ?”  asked  Jiong’s  Avife. 
“ Many  people  do  buy  and  keep  the  wives  for  their 
sons  long  before  they  are  married.  Lin  So  did  for 
his  son ; so  did  Im  Chek  for  one  of  his  sons.  We 
might  do  the  same  for  Khiau.  Besides,  A\'e  AA'ould 
then  have  Leng  Tso  to  work,  and  she  is  a good 
Avorker.” 

“ I have  not  money  enough  to  pay  for  her  now,” 
replied  Jiong.  “ It  took  nearly  all  of  my  money 
for  the  funeral  ceremonies  of  my  exalted  mother. 
We  must  Avait  a year  or  two.” 


175 


176 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


“ Could  you  not  borrow  money,  father  ?”  asked 
Khiau.  “It  will  not  take  much,  and  I will  help 
you  work  very  hard  to  earn  money  to  pay  it 
back.” 

“ We  will  see,  my  son — we  will  see,”  answered 
Jiong.  But  nothing  was  done. 

Not  long  after,  Khiau  one  evening  met  Leng 
Tso  out  under  the  tree  with  the  other  children. 
Instead  of  engaging  in  play  or  talking  with  the 
others,  the  two  found  a seat  away  from  the  rest 
and  had  a talk  together. 

“ Leng  Tso,”  said  he,  “ will  not  you  he  glad 
when  you  become  my  wife?  Then  you  will  not 
work  out  in  the  field  as  you  do  now,  and  Hou  will 
not  scold  and  heat  you  any  more.” 

“ Yes,”  said  the  girl,  “ I will  he  glad,  for  it  is 
so  hard  to  he  scolded  and  beaten  for  what  I can- 
not help.  Khiau,  will  you  ever  heat  me?” 

“No,  never!  I do  not  like  to  have  my  father 
strike  me  when  he  is  angry — he  does  not  strike 
me  at  any  other  time — and  I do  not  mean  to  whip 
anybody  when  I am  a man.  It  hurts.” 

“ But  men  do  heat  their  wives.  Hou  did  my 
new  mother,  though  he  is  afraid  of  the  new  Hou 
So,  and  other  men  in  the  village  do  too.” 

“ I know  it,  yet  they  do  not  love  their  wives. 
I mean  to  love  mine,  and  I want  her  to  love 
me.” 

“ Khiau,  I do  love  you ; I always  will.  You 
are  not  like  the  other  hoys ; you  are  good  to  me. 


BARGAINING  FOR  A WIFE. 


177 


and  to  everybody.  Will  you  always  be  so?  I am 
so  glad  that  grandmother  told  your  father  to  buy 
me  for  your  wife.  When  will  he  buy  me?  I wish 
he  would  soon.” 

“ He  said  that  he  would,  but  father  waits.” 

“ What  if  Hou  should  sell  me  to  somebody  else  ? 
Ah,  Khiau,  I do  not  want  to  go  away  from  you  ; 
and  yet  Hou  said  one  day,  when  he  was  very  angry 
with  me,  that  he  would  sell  me  to  be  the  wife  of 
some  bad  man  away  from  here.  Please  try  to  get 
your  father  to  make  the  bargain  soon.  I would 
rather  die  than  go  away.  Don’t  let  him  sell  me 
away.” 

“ Hou  shall  not  sell  you  to  anybody  else.  Grand- 
mother said  that  you  must  be  my  wife ; and  if  he 
tries  to  sell  you  to  any  other  family,  we  will — we 
will  not  let  him.  Grandmother  said  that  you  and 
I must  worship  and  care  for  her  spirit.  How  can 
we  if  you  go  out  of  Thau  Pau?” 

As  soon  as  he  could  talk  to  his  father  after  this 
Khiau  urged  him  to  make  the  bargain  with  Hou 
and  buy  Leng  Tso  at  once.  Jiong  listened  good- 
naturedly  to  his  boy’s  pleadings,  and  then  said, 

“ I cannot  buy  Leng  Tso  now,  for  I have  not 
money  to  pay.” 

“You  could  borrow  the  money.  Enough  men 
will  let  you  have  it.” 

“ Yet  it  will  cost  a great  deal  to  pay  the  interest 
on  the  money.  Hou  may  ask  as  much  as  fifty 
dollars,  or  even  more,  and  the  interest  on  fifty  dol- 
12 


178 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-GIBL. 


lars  for  one  year  will  be  twelve  dollars.*  Would 
it  not  be  better  to  wait  a few  years  ? Hou  must 
sell  Leng  Tso  to  be  somebody’s  wife  when  she 
grows  to  be  a woman,  and  then  we  may  get  her 
cheajier  than  now.” 

‘‘  Before  that  he  may  make  a bargain  with  some 
one  else,  and  we  cannot  get  her.  Then  your  prom- 
ise to  grandmother  will  be  broken,  and  there  will 
be  no  Leng  Tso  to  care  for  the  spirit  of  grand- 
mother.” 

“ But  we  can  get  another  wife  for  you,  and 
cheaper  too,  who  may  be  just  as  good.” 

“I  do  not  want  another;  I want  Leng  Tso. 
She  is  the  one  whom  grandmother  chose.  Besides, 
I do  not  wish  a wife  whom  I do  not  know  and 
whom  I do  not  like.” 

“ Do  not  like ! How  can  you  tell  until  you 
know?  Your  uncle  Jip  did  not  know,  nor  had 
he  ev'er  seen,  his  wife  until  he  was  married ; and 
so  it  is  with  nearly  every  one.” 

Khiau,  being  the  oldest  son  and  a favorite  child 
of  his  father,  was  usually  gratified  in  his  requests 
if  they  did  not  cost  Jiong  too  much  care  and  trou- 
ble. Urged  on  by  his  son’s  plea,  Jiong  sent  a man 
to  Hou  to  make  a bargain  for  Leng  Tso. 

His  slave-girl,  Hou  said,  was  just  becoming  able 
to  work  well  and  ])ay  for  all  the  care  he  had  given 

* This  was  the  ordinary  rate  of  interest  in  China  not  many 
years  ago,  and  even  fifty  per  cent,  interest  was  sometimes 
charged  and  paid. 


BARGAINING  FOR  A WIFE. 


179 


and  the  cost  he  had  had  in  feeding  and  clothing 
and  doctoring  her;  he  did  not  wish  to  sell  her  now. 
If  he  sold  at  all  now,  it  must  be  at  a price  large 
enough  to  pay  for  all  his  trouble  and  exjiense. 

“How  much  would  that  be?’'  asked  the  man. 

The  reply,  “ Much  more  than  a hundred  dollars,” 
made  the  man  see  that  he  could  make  no  bargain 
with  Hou. 

Jiong,  as  well  as  his  family,  was  disappointed. 

“We  might  make  a bargain  with  Hou  now  for 
the  girl  when  she  is  a woman,”  said  the  father. 
“ He  would  probably  let  her  go  then  for  much  less 
money;  and  if  we  only  pay  a little  down  to  fix 
the  bargain,  Hou  cannot  sell  her  to  any  one  else.” 

Again  the  man  was  sent  to  make  an  agreement 
for  Leng  Tso.  The  Chinese  usually  get  a third 
person  to  begin  any  important  transaction  for  them, 
and  not  until  they  know  the  intentions  of  the  other 
side  will  they  appear  at  all  interested.  In  arrang- 
ing for  wives  the  business  is  almost  always  done  by 
others  than  those  who  are  to  be  married.  Of  course 
this  saves  a great  deal  of  trouble  to  the  young  peo- 
ple before  the  wedding,  yet  all  the  more  trouble 
comes  after.  People  who  do  not  make  their  own 
bargains  usually  find  fault  with  those  made  for 
them  by  others. 

When  the  man  talked  to  Hou  about  selling  his 
slave-girl  when  she  became  a woman,  he  was  ready 
to  make  a bargain. 

“Yes,”  said  he,  “she  must  be  married  to  some 


180 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


one  tlien,  and  lie  who  gives  the  most  money  can 
have  her.”  But  he  was  unwilling  to  set  any  price : 
“My  slavc-gii’l  is  a good  worker;  she  will  be  a 
pretty  woman,  though  it  is  true  she  has  not  small 
feet;  she  is  good  and  kind;  and  there  will  be  many 
number  one  good  men  who  will  want  her  for  a wife. 
They  will  be  ready  to  pay  a large  sum  for  her,  so  I 
will  not  make  a bargain  now  unless  I get  a large 
price.” 

When,  after  a number  of  lower  offers  had  been 
refused,  fifty  dollars  in  six  years  was  offered,  with 
the  promise  of  ten  besides,  to  be  paid  at  once  to 
bind  the  bargain,  Hou  said, 

“If,  when  she  is  twenty-two  years  old,  you  will 
give  me  one  hundred  dollars,  and  twenty  dollars 
now  to  bind  it,  then  I will  agree  to  sell  her  to  you.” 
The  man  said  that  was  much  more  money  than 
Jiong  would  be  willing  to  pay. 

“Jiong!”  said  Hou;  “do  you  bargain  for  Jiong?” 
“Yes,”  said  the  man;  “he  wants  her  as  a wife 
for  his  oldest  son,  Khiau.” 

“ A wife  for  Khiau ! He  is  the  wicked  boy  who 
came  with  several  others  into  my  house  some  time 
ao-o.  Ko;  he  shall  not  have  her  for  a wife.  He 
is  possessed  by  an  evil  spirit.  An  evil  spirit  is  the 
wife  that  he  needs.” 

It  was  useless  to  talk  further.  Hou  would  not 
let  Leng  Tso  become  the  wife  of  Khiau,  even 
though  ten  times  the  price  he  demanded  were  given. 
Hou,  like  some  other  men,  when  he  hated  a boy, 


BARGAINING  FOR  A WIFE. 


181 


felt  unable  to  hate  him  enough.  That  one  bold 
act  of  Khiau  was,  to  his  mind,  enough  to  make  the 
boy  deserve  the  most  horrible  of  punishments.  He 
knew  well  that  Khiau  had  persuaded  the  other 
boys  to  come  into  his  home  and  stop  his  whipping 
his  slave,  and  he  knew,  too,  though  he  would  not 
own  it,  that  the  manly  confession  of  Khiau  made 
his  own  cruelty  to  Leng  Tso  appear  the  more  mean 
and  contemptible.  Hou  was  a mean  man,  and  he 
could  not  help  knowing  it,  though  he  could  not 
forgive  any  one  who  made  that  meanness  appear 
in  its  true  light. 

The  easy  good-nature  of  Jiong  took  the  failure 
to  get  Leng  Tso  as  a wife  for  Khiau  very  quietly. 

“ Hou  may  change  his  mind  many  times  before 
she  is  a woman,”  said  he.  “There  need  be  no 
haste.  Besides,  Hou  does  not  own  all  the  girls.” 

To  Khiau  it  was  a sore  disappointment.  Boy 
though  he  was,  his  was  not  a child’s  heart.  In 
size  he  was  rapidly  becoming  a man,  and  in  feel- 
ings he  was  a man.  In  his  disappointment  he 
thought  more  of  Leng  Tso  than  he  did  of  himself. 
He  had  often  pitied  the  girl  under  her  cruel  mas- 
ter, and  had  often  determined  that  he  would  buy 
Leng  Tso  and  make  her  his  sister  when  he  became 
a man.  He  had  thought  little  of  making  her  his 
wife,  for  he  had  seen  so  little  love  between  hus- 
bands and  wives  that  to  him  the  love  of  brother 
and  sister  was  far  dearer.  Kow,  as  he  thought  of 
Leng  Tso  being  sold  again  to  a stranger,  and  be- 


]82 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


coming  the  Avife  of  some  cruel  man  who  would 
abuse  and  beat  her,  who  would  treat  her  like  a dog, 
all  the  true  manliness  in  his  nature  was  aroused. 
It  was  owing  to  him  that  she  must  suffer  again. 
His  rashness  in  leading  the  boys  into  Hou’s  house 
had  caused  it  all.  His  carelessness,  too,  in  break- 
ing that  vase — that  w'as  the  beginning  of  all  this. 
Why  could  he  not  be  more  careful  ? Why  Avould 
he  be  so  rash?  he  asked  himself.  For  a single  act 
of  his,  that  poor  innocent  girl  must  suffer  a life- 
time. As  he  thought  of  this  he  resolved  that  in 
some  way  Leng  Tso  should  be  bought  from  Hou, 
and  should  become  his  wife.  He  was  several  years 
older  than  she,  and  probably  Hou  would  not  sell 
her  for  six  or  eight  years  yet;  so  he  would  have 
plenty  of  time  to  earn  money  and  plan  ways  by 
which  she  might  be  made  free.  His  thoughts 
Khiau  kept  to  himself.  He  took  time  to  lay  his 
plans,  and  felt  sure  that  some  day  he  would  set 
Leng  Tso  free.  He  began  by  trying  to  do  Hou  a 
little  act  of  kindness  when  he  could. 

All  noticed  that  Khiau  became  very  quiet  some 
time  after  the  death  of  his  grandmother;  but,  as  he 
had  loved  her  very  much,  it  was  supposed  that  sorrow 
because  of  his  loss  made  him  still.  He  said  very 
little  to  any  one,  and  kept  away  from  his  old  asso- 
ciates. Instead  of  the  lively  boy  who  cared  more 
for  fun  and  company  than  for  work,  he  became 
the  hardest-working  boy  in  the  village.  No  one, 
unless  it  were  Hou,  was  more  busy  than  he. 


BARGAINING  FOB  A WIFE. 


183 


“ Where  is  Khiaii  ?”  was  often  asked.  “ What 
makes  him  so  busy?  Is  work  so  plenty  that  he 
cannot  find  time  to  rest  or  talk?”  When  asked 
what  made  him  work  so  hard,  he  only  answered 
that  work  must  be  done,  and,  as  he  must  do  his 
share  some  day,  he  might  as  well  begin  now. 
Though  quiet,  he  was  the  same  obliging  and 
good-natnred  fellow  that  he  had  always  been. 
He  was  even  more  obliging. 

One  day,  when  Hou  was  away,  Khiau,  working 
in  a field  not  far  from  Hou’s,  saw  his  buffalo  loose 
and  in  the  rice-field.  Usually  he  would  have  felt 
glad  to  see  the  buffalo  destroying  Hou’s  property, 
but  now  he  hurried  to  the  place,  and,  catching  the 
animal,  led  it  back  and  fastened  it  to  the  stake  in 
the  pasturing-place.  When  Hou,  the  next  day, 
saw  the  damage  done  to  his  rice,  he  supposed  that 
somebody  had  driven  a buffalo  in  to  destroy  his 
field  while  he  was  away.  But  as  he  looked  more 
closely  to  the  tracks  in  the  wet  ground  he  saw  that 
they  came  from  and  went  back  to  the  place  where 
his  buffalo  had  been  tied.  It  had  been  his  own. 
Now  he  understood  how  the  knot  came  in  the  tie- 
rope.  But  who  had  brought  the  buffalo  out  ? It 
was  the  work  of  some  friend — what  friend,  Hou 
could  not  guess. 

This  was  not  the  only  favor  done  to  Hou  by  the 
boy,  sometimes  known  to  the  hard  man,  and  some- 
times no  one  but  Khiau  himself  could  tell  who 
had  done  it.  Hou  wondered  what  had  made  the 


184 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIBL. 


boy  act  so  friendly.  For  a time  he  thought  that 
Khiau  was,  after  all,  a good  kind  of  a boy,  and 
Hou’s  heart  wanned  toward  him.  Then  the 
thought  came  into  his  mind — he  was  always 
ready  to  suspect  others — that  Kliiau  was  doing 
this  just  that  he  or  his  father  might  cheat  him  in 
some  bargain.  That  Kliiau  cared  enough  for 
Leng  Tso  to  do  these  acts  of  kindness  for  her 
sake  never  entered  the  hard  man’s  heart,  nor  did 
he  think  that  the  boy  gave  himself  a troubling 
thought  about  his  refusal  to  sell  Leng  Tso  to  be 
his  wife. 

Hou  was  made  more  susjiicious  of  Khiau  and 
his  father  by  overhearing  Leng  Tso  say  to  a child- 
friend  that  Khiau’s  father  meant  to  buy  her  when 
she  grew  up  and  some  day  she  would  be  Khiau’s 
wife,  for  he  was  trying  now  to  help  his  flither  earn 
money  to  buy  her.  He  felt  sure  then  that  they 
meant  to  get  his  slave-girl,  and  he  was  moi'e  deter- 
mined than  ever  that  she  should  never  become  the 
wife  of  Khiau.  One  night  he  heard  some  boys 
talking  about  himself,  and  one  repeated  a remark 
Khiau  had  made  about  Hou  being  an  evil  spirit 
in  a man’s  body,  and  that  tigers  would  not  kill 
him.  Though  Khiau  had  said  this  a long  time 
ago,  and  then  only  in  fun,  yet  Hou  did  not  know 
that ; he  only  knew  that  the  boy  had  said  it.  So 
he  hated  him  more  than  ever.  After  that  Hou 
would  receive  no  favoi's  from  Khiau,  and  tried  to 
keep  away  from  the  boy.  He  even  went  so  far 


BARGAINING  FOB  A WIFE. 


185 


as  to  forbid  Long  Tso  to  be  out  in  the  court  in  the 
evening.  He  also  forbade  her  visiting  or  speaking 
to  any  of  Khiau’s  family.  But,  as  his  wife  did 
not  care  for  her  husband’s  wishes,  Leng  Tso  was 
soon  sent  to  Jiong’s  house  on  an  errand,  and  she 
often  had  an  excuse  for  being  in  the  court  after 
work  was  done.  Hou,  like  others,  in  time  forgot 
his  command  to  the  girl,  and  let  her  go  as  she 
chose  when  work  was  over. 

Khiau  had  been  toiling  hard  for  a year,  and  yet 
at  the  end  saw  that  little  gain  had  come  from  his 
work.  His  father  was  glad  to  see  his  son  doing 
so  much,  and  thought  that  he  himself  might  do 
less ; so  the  more  the  son  did,  the  more  idle  was 
the  father.  He  was  lazy,  and  of  course  had  many 
excuses  for  not  working — he  was  not  well,  he  had 
business  away,  or  it  was  a feast-day  and  he  would 
honor  the  season  by  resting.  Khiau  began  to 
think,  though  he  did  not  say  it,  that  after  one  day 
of  work  his  father  needed  five  or  six  to  get  thor- 
oughly rested.  His  younger  brother,  who  was 
growing  to  be  a large  boy,  stayed  and  rested  with 
his  father.  Work  and  he  had  been  '‘bad  friends  ” 
for  years,  with  no  prospect  of  the  difference  being 
settled.  At  the  end  of  the  year  Khiau  was  dis- 
couraged. He  saw  no  prospect  of  buying  the  free- 
dom of  Leng  Tso  by  staying  at  home,  and  he  knew 
that  he  must  himself  earn  the  money,  for  his  father 
had  given  up  all  idea  of  getting  the  girl  for  his  wife. 

Jhiong  asked. 


186 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-GIRL. 


“ If  I cannot,  how  can  I ? Hon  said  that  he 
would  not  sell  the  girl,  so  we  must  get  somebody 
for  you  some  day.  But  there  is  time  enough  yet.” 
“ Father,”  said  Khiau  at  the  end  of  the  year, 
“ Niau  will  soon  be  a man,  I am  almost  one  now, 
and  there  is  not  enough  work  for  us,  nor  can  we 
support  all  of  our  family  here  if  all  stay.  I will 
go  away  and  earn  money  in  some  other  place.” 
The  easy-tempered  Jiong  was  willing  to  let 
Khiau  go,  only  he  knew  that  the  absence  of  his 
oldest  son  meant  more  work  for  him,  and  the  past 
year  had  been  too  comfortable  for  him  to  care  to 
take  the  burden  of  work  again.  Niau  objected 
more  than  his  father,  so  did  the  whole  family.  It 
could  not  be  thought  of.  The  oldest  son  must  stay 
at  home.  He  must  care  for  his  parents.  He  must 
worship  and  care  for  the  s])irits  of  the  dead ; and, 
as  Mi,  the  oldest  daughter,  was  soon  to  be  married 
and  go  away,  the  next  oldest,  and  he  the  first-born 
son,  could  not  be  spared  at  all. 

Khiau  stayed,  but  made  up  his  mind  that  he 
would  go  the  next  year  if  prospects  were  not  bet- 
ter. The  more  he  saw  of  Ijeng  Tso  and  the  un- 
kiudness  of  her  mistress,  as  well  as  of  Hou  himself, 
the  more  determined  was  he  that  she  should  be  set 
free.  But  when  he  thought  that  she  might  become 
the  wife  of  some  hard-hearted  man  and  suffer  from 
his  cruel  treatment,  Khiau  felt  that  he  had  no  time 
to  spare.  The  wife  of  another ! The  more  he 
thought  of  it,  the  more  he  was  troubled.  That 


BARGAINING  FOB  A WIFE. 


187 


Leng  Tso  should  be  free,  should  be  his  sister,  was 
not  all  the  object  Khiau  had  in  mind,  though  it 
was  about  all  that  he  would  have  owned.  That 
she  should  be  his  wife  was  a matter  of  course,  but 
that  was  only  a trifle.  Every  man  who  could  alford 
it  bought  a wife  or  had  somebody  buy  a wife  for 
him.  It  was  not  the  thought  of  a wife,  but  of 
Leng  Tso  and  of  her  belonging  to  a stranger — of 
her  being  away  from  him,  being  lost  for  ever  to 
him — this  gave  Khiau  trouble ; this  made  him 
anxious  to  set  Leng  Tso  free.  Had  he  been  told 
that  he  loved  Leng  Tso,  he  would  have  said, 
“ True ; so  do  others.  She  is  good,  and  all  love 
her.”  But  if  any  one  had  told  him  that  he  was 
“ in  love  with  ” the  slave-girl,  Khiau  would  not 
have  understood  what  was  said.  Young  people 
do  not  “fall  in  love”  in  China.  Khiau  was  an 
exception,  and  a rare  one.  For  young  people  to 
“ fall  in  love  ” there  is  regarded  as  highly  im- 
proper.* 

Because  Khiau  had  true  manliness,  he  could 
love.  Because  he  was  a noble  fellow,  he  could 
love  deeply  and  make  great  sacrifices  for  the  object 

* Two  young  Chinese,  one  of  whom  was  a member  of  a Chris- 
tian church,  who  were  not  engaged  to  be  married,  became 
attached  to  each  other,  and  the  good  Christian  people  con- 
sulted the  missionaries  to  know  whether  or  not  they  should 
be  disciplined.  A charge  of  deception  was  brought  against 
them,  and  one  at  least  was  suspended  from  the  communion 
of  the  church.  The  real  cause  of  suspension  was  loving  be- 
fore engagement. 


188 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIEL. 


of  his  love.  Though  hardly  a man  himself,  and 
though  Leng  Tso  was  only  a girl,  yet  he  had  mind 
enough  to  see  that  in  the  slave-girl  there  was  a 
true,  a noble,  a loving  soul,  worthy  of  a better  life 
than  that  of  a slave  or  the  degraded  servant  of 
some  heartless  man. 

The  year  wore  away  and  Khiau  remained  at 
home,  but  each  day  more  fully  determined  that 
shortly  after  the  New  Year  feast-days  were  over 
he  would  go  away.  He  said  nothing  about  his 
plans,  but  tried  to  learn  all  he  could  of  a boat- 
man’s life  on  the  river.  The  trip  made  down  the 
river  years  before  had  given  him  a liking  for  that 
life.  Knowing  little  of  the  world,  that  seemed  to 
him  not  only  the  most  pleasant,  but  the  best,  way  of 
earning  money. 

Before  telling  further  of  Khiau’s  plans,  Ave  give 
place  for  another  chapter  in  Leng  Tso’s  life. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

A BABY  IN  BOV'S  HOME. 

WO  years  have  passed  since  the  death  of  So 


Chiin.  They  have  not  been  happy  years  to 
Leng  Tso.  She  has  long  since  learned  that  the 
life  of  a girl,  and  especially  that  of  a slave-girl, 
in  China  has  many  troubles.  Hou  is  the  same 
man  that  he  was  two  years  ago — cowardly  and 
cruel,  afraid  of  his  wife,  but  harsh  to  his  slave- 
girl,  and  hated  by  every  one  in  the  village.  Some- 
times Leng  Tso’s  new  mistress  is  kind  to  her,  and 
again  gives  cross  words  and  now  and  then  a blow. 
Since  the  marriage  of  Hou,  Leng  Tso  has  become 
careless,  and  sometimes  deserves  the  scolding  she 
receives. 

There  has  come  to  the  home  of  Hou  a little 
baby-boy,  a bright-eyed,  clear-faced  little  fellow. 
His  mother  thinks  him  the  prettiest  and  best  baby 
that  ever  lived.  Even  Hou  has  learned  to  smile 
and  talk  to  the  little  one,  and  has  been  known  to 
sometimes  take  him  in  his  arms.  The  baby  is 
almost  warming  the  frozen  heart  of  his  father  to 
life  again.  If  his  wife  were  only  a little  more 


189 


190 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE- GIRL. 


pleasant,  and  the  people  in  the  village  would  give 
him  a kind  word  now  and  then,  he  might  become 
a man  again. 

To  Leng  Tso  the  baby  is  a constant  delight. 
She  loves  it  as  though  it  were  her  own  brother, 
and  so  she  calls  it  when  no  one  hears  her.  The 
little  one  has  learned  to  love  her  even  more  than 
it  loves  its  own  mother,  and  sometimes  reaches 
out  its  hands  to  Leng  Tso  to  be  taken  from 
its  mother’s  arms.  Hou’s  wife  was  glad  to  see 
her  kindness  to  the  baby,  and  gave  it  almost 
entirely  into  Leng  Tso’s  charge;  this  kept  the 
girl  from  the  field  much  of  the  time.  At  first 
Hou  refused  to  let  her  stay  at  home,  but  his  wife 
told  him  that  he  must  either  leave  Leng  Tso  at 
home  or  cook  his  own  food ; she  could  not  attend 
to  the  child  and  do  all  of  the  housework.  Besides, 
she  said,  the  girl’s  place  was  in  the  house,  and  not 
in  the  field,  and  there  she  must  stay.  Hou  grum- 
l)led  in  vain ; he  was  too  much  afraid  of  his  wife 
to  insist  upon  having  his  own  way.  But  when 
the  new  Hou  So  saw  that  her  baby  loved  the  girl 
more  than  it  loved  its  mother,  she  became  jealous 
and  said  she  would  take  care  of  him,  and  told 
Hou  that  he  might  take  the  slave-girl  to  the  field 
again. 

Only  for  a few  days  did  Leng  Tso  work  there. 
Hon’s  wife  was  really  a good  housekeeper  and  a 
hard  worker,  though,  like  all  other  Chinese  women, 
willing  to  have  as  little  care  as  possible.  She 


A BABY  TN  HOU’S  HOME. 


191 


found  the  work  much  harder  when  Leng  Tso  was 
in  the  field  than  when  she  was  at  home  caring 
for  the  child,  so  she  told  her  husband  one  day  that 
he  must  leave  the  slave-girl  to  help  her  in  the 
house.  Leng  Tso  was  delighted  to  take  care  of 
the  little  boy  again,  nor  was  he  less  pleased. 
One  day  she  took  him  to  the  temple  in  the  village, 
and  tried  to  make  the  little  fellow  kneel  down  and 
wmrship  the  god  as  she  did.  But  he  shook  his 
head  and  struggled  so  hard  to  get  away  that  Leng 
Tso  was  forced  to  leave  the  temple.  She  was  sor- 
ry, for  she  wanted  to  teach  the  child  to  worship 
the  god.  Khiau,  seeing  her  coming  from  the 
temple  with  the  child,  asked  what  she  had  been 
doing. 

“ I tried  to  teach  him  to  worship  the  god,”  said 
she. 

“ He  is  too  small,”  answered  the  boy.  “ Don’t 
bother  him  so  soon.  It  will  be  bad  enough  if  he 
must  worship  the  idols  when  he  gets  older.” 
“Don’t  you  worship  the  gods  any  more,  Khiau?” 
“ Yes,  sometimes  I do,  but  I forget  very  often. 
Besides,  what  good  does  it  do?  I do  not  see  that 
I am  profited  one  bit  by  it.” 

“ You  promised  grandmother  that  you  would, 
and  you  should  keep  your  promise,  if  no  more.” 

“ 1 promised  to  do  it  unless  something  that  I 
could  not  help  hindered ; and  something  does 
hinder  that  I cannot  help.  The  gods  do  not 
answer  my  prayers,  and  I cannot  help  them,  I 


192 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-GIRL. 


cannot  make  them  do  it.  Grandmother  never 
wanted  me  to  do  anything  from  which  no  one  got 
any  good.” 

“ Khiau,  you  know  she  did  want  you  to  worship 
the  gods.” 

“ Yes,  she  said  I must,  but  you  know  she  said 
if  we  could  find  some  better  gods  to  worship  we 
must  pray  to  them ; and  I can  find  better  ones.” 

“ What  gods  ?” 

“ One  is  my  father,  anotlier  is  my  mother,  and 
there,  too,  are  my  friends.  They  do  more  for  once 
asking  than  tlie  gods  have  ever  done  for  me  yet. 
But  I have  no  time  to  talk  now.” 

Not  long  after  this  the  little  child  of  Hou  became 
sick.  For  some  days  it  had  been  fi’etful  and 
troublesome,  but  at  length  grew  very  ill.  Hou 
So  was  alarmed ; she  gave  medicine  to  the  little 
one  and  took  entire  charge  of  it,  letting  Leng  Tso 
do  the  housework  as  well  as  she  could. 

Medicine  and  care  did  not  make  the  child  better. 
Hou  So  sent  to  some  of  the  neighbors,  requesting 
the  old  women  to  come  and  try  to  cure  her  child. 
They  had  many  remedies,  but  none  did  any  good. 
At  length  one  of  them  said  she  believed  that  the 
child  would  die,  any  way,  and  there  was  no  need  of 
trying  to  save  its  life.  She  thought  that  an  evil 
spirit  had  entered  its  body  to  kill  it.  One  woman 
said  that  it  was  the  spirit  of  the  first  Hou  So,  who 
was  determined  that  her  husband  should  have  no 
sons  by  his  second  wife  to  grow  up.  One  by  one 


A BABY  IN  HOU'S  HOME. 


193 


the  women  left  the  mother  with  her  sick  child,  as 
though  they  wei’e  afraid  to  be  in  a house  where  an 
evil  spirit  was  working  death  to  a little  one.  Even 
Hou  shook  his  head  when  he  looked  at  the  child, 
and  muttered, 

“ Can’t  live ! Enemies  again  ! Why  can  I not 
have  something  in  this  world  ?” 

But  Leng  Tso  and  the  mother  did  not  give  up. 
The  girl  seemed  almost  as  sad  as  Hou  So.  Day 
and  night  for  the  three  days  that  the  child  was  so 
very  ill  they  watched  by  the  little  sufferer,  looking 
and  hoping  for  some  signs  of  its  recovery.  Sev- 
eral times,  when  Leng  Tso  could  spare  a few  mo- 
ments, she  hurried  to  the  temple  and  begged  the 
gods  to  save  the  life  of  the  little  one.  Once  or 
twice  for  a few  minutes  did  the  mother  leave  the 
child  in  charge  of  the  girl  and  hurry  to  the  temple 
to  offer  incense  and  a hasty  prayer,  with  the  almost 
despairing  hope  that  her  child  might  live.  But 
death  came,  and  the  restless  hands  of  the  little 
sufferer  lay  still  by  its  sides.  Leng  Tso  and  the 
mother  wept  and  mourned  as  though  their  hearts 
were  broken. 

“ My  light  has  gone  out,”  sobbed  the  mother, 
“ and  it  is  all  dark  and  lonely  again.” 

Hou,  who  had  remained  around  the  house  for 
the  last  day  of  the  child’s  life,  was  in  a room  near ; 
but  he  said  not  a word,  he  shed  no  tears,  and  seemed 
the  same  cold  man  he  had  been  for  years.  It  was 
not  because  he  did  not  love  his  child  that  he  did 


13 


194 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


not  mourn,  but  because  he  believed  that  an  enemy- 
had  entered  its  body  after  the  father  had  learned  to 
love  it,  and  then,  to  have  a terrible  revenge,  had 
taken  the  life  of  the  little  one.  Shortly  after  the 
death  of  the  child  the  mother  began  the  ceremonies 
for  the  dead.  No  one  coming  to  help,  she  and  Leng 
Tso  prepared  the  little  body  for  burial. 

The  father  now  came  into  the  room  and  told  the 
mother  that  the  body  must  be  taken  out  of  the  way 
soon. 

“ AVhat !”  said  she ; “ do  you  not  mean  to  have 
the  ceremonies  and  a coffin?” 

“ No,”  he  answered  ; “ it  would  gratify  my  enemies 
too  much  to  see  our  sorrow  for  the  dead  child.  I 
will  not  please  them.” 

‘‘  Do  you  not  mean  to  honor  your  own  flesh  and 
blood,”  she  said,  “ when  it  dies  ?” 

“ Yes,”  replied  Hou,  “ but  this  is  an  enemy’s 
work,  and  that  enemy  is  watching  to  see  how  much 
we  suffer  from  his  evil  work.” 

For  once  Hou  was  firm.  No  great  ceremonies 
Mere  observed,  nor  was  the  body  kept  loi^  after 
death.  Hou  thought,  if  he  buried  the  little  one 
immediately,  the  enemy  M'ould  suppose  that  he  did 
not  love  his  child,  because  he  was  in  such  haste  to 
have  the  body  put  out  of  the  way.  His  wife,  how- 
ever, insisted  that  her  baby  should  be  put  into  a 
coffin  and  buried  in  a grave,  instead  of  being 
thrown  into  some  hole  as  if  it  were  a dog.  With- 
out a funeral,  and  with  none  but  the  parents  and 


A BABY  IN  HOWS  HOME. 


195 


Leng  Tso  to  follow  it  to  the  grave,  the  little  one 
was  buried  far  away  from  the  graves  of  others. 

It  was  a bitter  trial  for  Leng  Tso  to  part  with 
her  little  charge,  and  her  heart  was  heavy  when  she 
turned  away  from  the  mound  that  covered  the  child. 
That  evening  she  met  Ivhiau  in  the  court.  They 
did  not  often  meet,  but  when  they  did  Leng  Tso 
felt,  as  she  told  Khiau,  that  her  “ heart  was  home 
again.” 

“ Everything  that  I love,”  said  she,  “ dies  or  is 
taken  away.  I loved  my  old  home,  my  mother 
and  brothers — I have  not  forgotten  them  yet — but 
I was  taken  away  from  them.  I loved  my  new 
mother ; the  tiger  killed  her.  I loved  grand- 
mother, and  she  died.  Aud  I loved  the  little  baby 
so  much ! He  loved  me  too.  He  is  dead  now. 
Everything  that  I love  dies  and  leaves  me  alone. 
Must  I always  be  alone  and  a slave?” 

“ No,”  said  Khiau ; ‘‘  one  day  I will  have  money 
and  then  you  shall  be  a slave  no  more : you  shall 
be  my  wife.” 

“ Khiau,”  said  she,  looking  sadly  up  to  him,  “ I 
am  afraid  to  be  your  wife.” 

“ Why  ?” 

“ Because,  if  I am,  I shall  love  you  as  I did  my 
new  mother  and  grandmother  and  the  baby,  and 
then  you  may  die.” 

The  sharp  voice  of  Hou  So  calling  the  girl 
stopped  the  talk.  The  poor  woman  was  cross, 
sour  and  hated  everybody  after  the  death  of  her 


196 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


child,  and  especially  did  she  blame  Hon.  If  he 
were  not  such  a bad  man,  he  would  not  have  en- 
emies to  kill  his  child,  she  said ; for  even  she  be- 
lieved that  an  enemy’s  spirit  had  entered  into  and 
killed  the  babe. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


KHIAU  LEAVES  THAU  PAU. 

The  New  Year  feast-days  were  ended,  the 
profits  of  the  old  year  had  been  reckoned  up, 
and  the  time  came  to  start  anew.  Khiau  had  done 
the  mo.st  of  the  work,  and  his  father  and  brother 
the  rest.  They  seemed  well  satisfied  with  the  re- 
sult of  the  year,  but  Khiau  was  not.  While  the 
family  had  beeij  supported  by  his  work,  almost 
nothing  was  left  over.  To  go  away  would  not 
only  leave  one  less  to  feed  and  clothe,  but  it  would 
compel  Niau  to  work ; this  alone  was  a strong  reason 
for  his  going. 

Khiau,  through  a friend,  had  an  olfer  of  service 
as  a boatman  on  one  of  the  river-boats  at  wages 
that  seemed  to  him  very  large.  He  was  olferecl 
what  amounted  to  two  dollars  and  a.  half  a month 
besides  his  board.  It  must  be  remembered  that 
money  pays  for  far  more  in  China  than  it  does  in 
America,  so  that  Khiau’s  wages  were  equal  to 
twenty-five  dollars  a month  and  board  with  us. 
He  felt  sure  that  he  could  clothe  himself  for  five 
dollars  a year,  and  thus  would  be  able  to  save 
twenty-five  dollars  each  year  for  his  one  object. 

197 


198 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


This,  for  one  hardly  able  to  do  man’s  work,  was 
large  pay;  but  Khiau’s  friend  told  him  that  the 
work  would  be  hard  enough  to  earn  it. 

How  to  get  his  parents’  consent  troubled  Khiau. 
His  father  was  far  less  willing  than  he  had  been 
the  year  before,  and  his  mother  said  that  they  could 
not  let  him  go;  he  could  not  be  spared.  In  vain 
he  pleaded  and  urged  that  Niau  and  his  father  could 
do  the  work  and  care  for  all.  Not  until  he  told 
how  much  money  he  was  offered,  and  agreed  to 
give  a part  of  it  to  his  parents,  were  they  willing 
to  listen  to  his  going.  INIoney  rules  in  China,  and 
the  prospect  of  money  made  his  parents  consent  to 
Khiau’s  leaving  them.  But  the  money  they  were 
to  receive  did  not  win  Niau’s  consent.  That  was 
not  given.  To  let  Khiau  go  would  be  to  doom 
himself  to  work.  But  Khiau  felt  that  it  was  only 
giving  his  brother  a chance  to  live  without  doing 
anything  if  he  stayed,  so  Niau’s  opposition  made 
him  the  more  determined. 

The  time  was  set,  and  on  the  evening  before  he 
left  he  met  Leng  Tso  in  the  court.  She  already 
knew  of  his  leaving. 

“Oh,  Khiau,  are  you  going  away  so  soon?” 
said  she.  “When  will  you  come  back?  Will 
you  come  soon?  I shall  have  no  one  to  care  for 
me  when  you  are  gone.  I shall  want  so  much  to 
see  you.” 

“ Leng  Tso,”  said  he,  “ if  I stayed,  you  could 
not  see  me  often.  I am  almost  a man,  and  before 


KHIAU  LEAVES  THAU  PAU. 


199 


long  you  will  be  a woman,  and  then  they  would 
not  let  you  talk  to  me,  at  any  rate.” 

“Yet,  Khiau,  if  I knew  that  you  were  near,  it 
would  be  something  to  think  of.  Xow  I shall  not 
know  where  you  are.  You  miglit  die,  men  might 
kill  you,  and  no  one  would  tell  me.  Oh,  don’t  go. 
AVhy  must  you?” 

“ I will  tell  you  : my  father  has  no  money  to 
buy  you  fi-om  Hou,  and  I am  afraid  that  he  never 
will  have.  Grandmother  said  that  you  and  I must 
care  for  her  spirit,  but  how  ctin  we  worship  it  if 
you  always  belong  to  Hou  or  to  some  other  man  ? I 
must  go  away  to  earn  money  to  buy  you,  if  we  are 
to  take  care  of  grandmother’s  spirit.  You  loved 
grandmother,  you  wish  her  soul  to  be  well  cared 
for.  Who  will  care  for  it  when  father  and  mother 
die  if  yon  and  I do  not?  You  will  let  me  go,  Leug 
Tso,  will  you  not?” 

“Why,  Khiau,  I am  only  a slave-girl — I cannot 
hinder  you ; yet  I wish  that  you  would  stay.” 

“ Shall  I stay  and  poor  grandmother  starve  in 
the  spirit-land  and  Leng  Tso  always  remain  a 
slave?” 

“ Ko,  Khiau,  no ! I want  to  take  care  of  grand- 
mother, and  I wish — oh,  so  much  ! — to  be  free. 
Wliy  must  I be  a slave?  Why  must  I be  bought 
and  sold?” 

“Keep  courage,  Leng  Tso ; some  day  you  shall  be 
free.  Before  many  years  you  shall  be  as  free  as  a 
bird,  and  as  happy  too.  I will  buy  you.” 


200 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


“There  comes  Hou/’  whispered  she.  “Come 
back  soon,  Khiaii.  One  heart  will  wait  for  you,” 
she  said  in  a low  tone  as  she  hurried  to  the  house 
before  her  master  saw  her. 

Khiau  walked  slowly  away.  Had  he  dared,  he 
would  have  seated  himself  on  the  roots  of  the  old 
tree  and  cried  like  a child,  but  he  felt  that  he  was 
a man  now,  and  as  such  he  meant  to  act.  It  was 
much  more  trying  to  him  to  part  from  Leng  Tso 
than  it  was  from  his  father’s  family  the  next  morn- 
ing. He  expected  to  visit  home  again  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  new  year,  and  he  did  not  feel  that  the 
time  would  be  long. 

When  he  was  ready  to  start  he  paid  a last  visit 
to  the  tablet  of  his  grandmother.  After  burning 
incense  and  placing  food  and  tea  before  it  for  the 
spirit’s  use,  Khiau  kneeled  down  to  worship  and 
beg  a blessing  on  his  undertaking.  Believing  that 
her  sjhrit  was  in  the  tablet,  he  was  as  sad  at  taking 
leave  of  it  as  at  bidding  good-bye  to  any  of  the 
family. 

What  his  feelings  were  when  friends  and  home 
and  all  his  boyhood’s  associations  were  left  behind 
need  not  be  told.  Before  losing  sight  of  the  walls 
of  Thau  Pau  he  stopped  to  take  one  last  look.  It 
was  hard  to  leave  home.  True,  it  was  not  a very 
pleasant  home,  yet  it  was  the  only  one  he  had  ever 
known,  and  to  leave  it  made  it  seem  all  the  dearer. 
But  Leng  Tso  was  a slave-girl  in  that  village. 
Unless  he  earned  money  to  free  her — to  buy  her 


KHIAU  LEAVES  THAU  PAU. 


201 


for  himself — Leng  Tso  would  become  the  slave, 
the  w'ife,  of  another.  The  thought  of  her  made  him 
ready  to  go  on  again,  and  at  a quicker  pace,  as  if 
by  hurrying  he  might  the  sooner  set  her  free. 

It  was  afternoon  when  he  reached  the  landing 
from  which  he  was  to  begin  a boatman’s  life.  He 
soon  found  the  man  for  whom  he  expected  to  work, 
and  all  things  were  quickly  settled.  His  friend 
had  already  made  the  bargain  for  him.  A boat 
was  to  start  out  early  the  next  morning,  and  must 
be  loaded  that  afternoon.  Khiau  willingly  took 
hold  to  help,  though  his  time  did  not  begin  until 
the  next  day.  He  was  strong,  and  he  was  glad  to 
work  with  men  and  let  them  see  how  strong  he 
was.  The  men  were  very  willing  that  he  should 
do  all  the  work  he  chose.  Had  he  offered  to  load 
the  boat  alone,  while  they  rested,  not  one  would 
have  grumbled.  When  the  load  was  on,  Khiau 
was  tired.  He  was  not  used  to  such  heavy  work. 
As  soon  after  eating  his  supper  as  he  could  find  a 
place  he  lay  down  to  forget  his  weariness  in  thoughts 
of  home  and  in  sleep.  He  missed  his  bed,  hai’d 
and  uncomfortable  though  it  was,  and  wondered 
how  he  would  be  able  to  sleep  in  that  close  little 
hole  of  a cabin  with  the  other  strange  men  Iving 
around  him. 

Morning  came  too  soon ; rather,  the  call  to  get 
up  and  start  the  boat  down  stream  came  before 
morning  did.  Khiau  determined  to  be  a good 
boatman,  and  he  was  almost  the  first  to  be  ready 


202 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


for  work.  He  was  glad  to  hear  the  captain  praise 
him,  and  felt  sure  that  a boatman’s  life  was  the 
one  for  him. 

Going  down  stream  was  very  easy,  as  long  as 
the  water  was  deep  enough,  but  when  the  boat  ran 
aground  on  shoal  places,  and  Khiau  must  push 
very  hard  to  get  it  off,  and  even  jump  into  the 
water,  by  no  means  warm  during  the  cool  weather 
of  winter,  he  began  to  find  that  boating  had  some 
unpleasant  things  about  it  too.  Yet  the  sail  down 
the  river  was  not  so  hard  as  was  the  work  of  push- 
ing the  boat  back  against  the  current.  To  come 
up  stream  gave  the  men  the  harde.st  kind  of  labor. 
They  must  row  hard  or  push  with  poles,  or  even 
get  out  into  the  water  and  pull  the  boat  over  shal- 
low places,  to  make  any  progress  at  all. 

Khiau  was  not  so  sure  that  he  would  like  a 
boatman’s  life  after  the  first  trip,  and  after  a 
month  of  hard  work  he  was  tired  of  it — so  tired 
that  he  agreed  to  exchange  places  with  a man  who 
sailed  on  one  of  the  large  boats  running  from  the 
month  of  the  river  to  the  city  of  Ha  Bun.  This 
was  easier,  yet  when  he  became  seasick  he  wisjied 
himself  back  on  the  river  again.  Seasickness 
passed  away,  and  he  became  quite  a sailor.  But 
going  from  one  large  city  to  another  gave  Khiau, 
who  could  not  help  being  social,  many  ways  of 
spending  money.  Though  he  tried  to  save,  before 
a month  ended  half  of  his  wages  of  the  last  would 
be  gone.  Thus  it  went  on  for  several  months. 


KHIAU  LEAVES  THAU  PAU. 


203 


One  day  a man  took  passage  on  the  boat,  and 
astonished  the  passengers  and  boatmen  with  stories 
of  great  wealth  in  a country  from  which  he  had 
just  come.  Four  years  ago,  he  said,  he  had  left 
his  home  up  the  river  a poor  man,  and  now  he 
returned  worth  more  than  two  thousand  dollars. 
Two  thousand  dollars ! Khiau  had  hardly  ever 
heard  of  such  a sum  of  money.  It  was  a fortune. 
The  man  told  him  that  there  was  room  in  that 
country  for  many  Chinamen,  and  a fortune  for 
each  one  who  was  willing  to  work  hard  for  it. 
Khiau  learned,  too,  that  the  ship  by  which  the  man 
came  home  was  then  lying  in  the  harbor,  almost 
ready  to  take  a load  of  Chinamen — and  many 
were  going — back  to  the  country  of  wealth.  His 
month  had  only  begun,  and,  by  taking  no  pay  for 
the  few  days  he  had  worked  in  the  new  month, 
he  persuaded  the  captain  to  let  him  off.  When 
he  went  to  engage  passage  on  the  ship,  he  learned 
that  she  would  sail  so  soon  that  he  would  not 
have  time  to  go  home  and  back,  and  he  must 
either  go  without  seeing  his  friends  or  not  go  at 
all  with  this  ship.  As  no  one  knew  when  another 
would  sail,  Khiau  determined  to  go  to  Ah  Lam 
(Cochin  China),  the  Chinese  name  of  the  land  of 
wealtli.  Fortunately,  he  found  a man  who  was 
going  near  Thau  Pan,  and,  by  paying  this  man 
a small  sum  of  money,  Khiau  hired  him  to  tell 
his  father  where  he  had  gone,  and  to  say  that  he 
would  be  back  with  a fortune  in  four  years. 


204 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-OIRL. 


The  day  for  sailing  came,  and  Khiau,  -with  very 
many  other  Chinamen,  was  on  board.  The  pas- 
sage down  to  “ the  straits  ” was  a very  long  and 
trying  one ; the  south-west  trade-winds  blew  very 
strong  and  almost  steady  against  them.  Khiau 
had  been  homesick  on  the  river-boat  and  seasick 
on  the  sailing-boat,  but  on  the  ship  he  was  both 
homesick  and  seasick.  Again  and  again  he  wished 
that  he  had  been  content  to  earn  his  money  slowly 
but  surely  on  the  boat,  and  as  often  did  he  wish 
himself  home;  yet  w’hen  he  remembered  why  he 
left  home  he  still  felt  like  going  on. 

After  months  of  beating  against  a head-wind, 
the  ship  at  last  reached  the  country  sought ; and 
there  for  the  present  we  leave  Khiau  trying  to  gain 
a fortune,  trying  to  make  money  to  free  a slave, 
toiling  and  sacrificing  that  he  might  save  one 
whom  he  loved  from  a life  of  sorrow  and  misery. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE  CHOLERA. 

HEX  Leng  Tso  had  grown  to  be  almost  a 


woman,  some  of  the  people  of  Thau  Pan 
came  home  from  the  city  of  Ha  Bun,  and  said 
that  an  awful  disease  was  killing  the  people  there 
by  ten  thousands ; no  one  knew  what  it  was,  though 
some  said  that  in  the  days  of  their  forefathers  a 
disease  something  like  it  had  visited  the  city. 
Others  said  that  such  a disease  had  never  been 
known  before,  and  that  it  was  a judgment  of  the 
gods  on  the  people  for  allowing  foreigners  to  live 
in  their  countrv.  The  war  between  England  and 

•/  O 

China  had  just  ended,  and  some  said  that  the  gods 
were  angry  because  the  Chinese  had  made  peace 
with  the  foreign  embassy  instead  of  driving  them 
ont  of  the  country  or  killing  them.  Some  said 
that  it  was  not  a disease  at  all,  but  that  the  foreign- 
ers had  poisoned  the  wells,  and  drinking  the  pois- 
oned water  killed  the  people. 

These  men  said  that  very  few  who  had  the 
disease  got  well,  and  those  who  had  it  were  sick 
only  a day  or  two,  sometimes  not  more  than  an 


205 


206 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


hour.  Some  peojile  had  been  known  to  drop 
dead  in  the  street  from  it. 

This  news  caused  great  alarm  in  Thau  Pau,  for 
what  if  the  disease  should  come  up  that  way? 
The  men  who  told  about  it  said  that  the  wells 
could  not  have  been  poisoned  by  the  ft^’eigners, 
for  many  of  them  died  of  it  too.  For  a few  days 
the  excitement  and  fear  of  the  cholera — for  this 
was  the  new  disease — lasted.  Gradually  the  peo- 
ple forgot  about  it,  until  one  day  men  came  from 
the  large  Foo  city  and  said  that  the  pestilence  had 
reached  that  place  and  very  many  were  dying  from 
it  there.  Next  came  word  that  it  was  slowly  creep- 
ing along  the  river  and  spreading  from  one  place 
to  another,  yet  surely  coming  on  toward  Thau 
Pau.  At  length  it  made  its  appearance  in  the 
village. 

Two  of  the  villagers  who  had  been  away  came 
back,  and  one  of  them  became  ill  soon  after  reach- 
ing home.  At  first  none  seemed  to  think  that  it 
was  cholera,  but  as  he  grew  woi*se  very  rapidly  and 
died  the  next  day,  and  as  the  other  man  became  ill 
in  the  same  way  a day  after  and  died  within  two 
days  of  the  time  he  first  became  sick,  the  people 
felt  sure  that  it  was  the  dreaded  pestilence.  Not 
long  after,  others  became  ill  with  the  same  symp- 
toms. The  disease  made  its  appearance  in  one 
family  after  another.  Some  died  within  a day, 
and  others  lived  for  several  days.  Very  few 
recovered.  In  vain  the  doctors  tried  every  remedy, 


THE  CHOLERA. 


207 


and  at  last  they  gave  up  in  despair.  They  said 
that  the  gods  were  angry  with  the  people  for  some 
cause  unknown  to  them,  and  had  sent  the  pestilence 
as  a punishment. 

The  people  were  terror-stricken.  Sometimes 
they  gathered  in  the  temple  begging  the  idols 
to  save  them  from  the  dreaded  disease  and  to  take 
it  away  from  the  village,  and  again  they  joined  in 
a procession,  carrying  the  favorite  god  around  past 
the  houses,  hoping  that  by  thus  honoring  him  he 
would  hear  their  prayers.  Sometimes,  too,  they 
met  in  the  village  court,  and  with  gongs,  cymbals, 
guns,  firecrackers,  and  every  means  of  making  a 
noise,  tried  to  frighten  away  the  spirit  of  the  pesti- 
lence. Soon  the  people  became  afraid  of  the  sick, 
lest  by  being  with  them  they  take  the  disease. 
Many  thus  neglected  might  have  recovered,  but, 
without  care,  they  died. 

Hou,  terrified  at  the  thought  that  death  might 
come  to  him  through  the  dreaded  disease,  deter- 
mined to  run  away  until  the  cholera  had  left  Thau 
Pau.  He  heard  that  over  the  mountains  there 
was  a small  village  in  which  the  disease  had  not 
made  its  appearance.  That,  he  thought,  would  be 
a place  of  safety.  Telling  his  wife  that  he  had 
business  to  call  him  away  for  a while  he  started 
from  the  village.  That  no  one  might  know  where 
he  was  going,  he  took  another  direction  than  that 
leading  to  the  mountain-village,  but  when  out  of 
sight  of  Thau  Pau  he  turned  toward  the  place  he 


208 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


sought,  and  before  night  was  safe  in  the  little  town. 
No  one  kneAV  Hou,  and  no  one  knew  from  what 
place  he  had  come.  He  pretended  that  he  wanted 
to  buy  some  ground  and  live  in  the  village.  In- 
deed, he  thought  that  if  he  could  get  away  from 
Thau  Pau  without  losing  money  he  would  gladly 
live  anywhere  else,  if  it  only  was  where  no  one 
would  hate  and  treat  him  as  a robber. 

During  the  excitement  and  distress  caused  by  the 
cholera  little  work  was  done,  and  confusion  was 
everywhere.  Servants  came  and  went  without 
giving  an  account  of  what  they  did  or  receiving 
orders  from  their  masters. 

Disappointment  and  sorrow  had  made  Hou  So 
fretful,  cross-tempered,  and  sometimes  almost  cruel. 
It  was  not  uncommon  for  her,  in  fits  of  anger,  to 
strike  the  slave-girl  with  a stick  or  anything  that 
she  had  in  her  hand.  Because  every  one  liked 
Leng  Tso  and  few  cared  for  herself,  she  became 
jealous  of  the  girl,  and  more  than  once  tried  to 
persuade  Hou  to  sell  her  to  some  one  away  from 
the  village.  For  this  reason  Leng  Tso  kept  out  of 
her  mistress’  sight  as  much  as  possible.  Hou  still 
kept  Leng  Tso  at  work  in  the  field,  though  he 
forbade  her  going  into  the  village  court  in  the 
evening,  as  she  was  growing  to  be  a young  woman ; 
so  to  have  company  she  was  obliged  to  make  friends 
with  the  older  women  of  the  village,  as  well  as  the 
young  girls,  and  visit  them  at  their  homes.  Hou 
saw  that  this  displeased  his  wife,  and  so  took  jjleas- 


THE  CHOLERA. 


209 


lire  in  sending  the  girl  on  errands  to  families  in  the 
village.  Perhaps  he  thought  that  if  his  wife  were 
angry  with  Leng  Tso  he  would  have  less  of  the 
woman’s  hate  turned  upon  himself. 

For  the  first  two  or  three  days  of  Hou’s  absence 
Leng  Tso  went  out  as  usual  to  the  field,  but,  instead 
of  spending  the  day  at  work,  remained  idle  much 
of  the  time  or  came  to  the  village  again  and  went 
to  some  neighbor’s  house.  This  was  not  because 
she  was  unwilling  to  labor,  but,  like  most  of  the 
people  in  the  village,  she  was  frightened  by  the 
appearance  of  the  cholera,  and  hardly  knew  what 
to  do. 

One  day,  upon  returning  from  the  field,  as  she 
passed  by  her  home,  she  heard  groaning  and  some 
one  crying  as  though  in  great  suffering.  For  a 
moment  she  listened,  then  entered  the  house  : Hou 
So  had  the  cholera.  The  first  thought  of  the  girl 
was  to  run  away  and  let  her  mistress  die.  Like 
every  one  else,  Leng  Tso  feared  that  if  she  went 
into  the  sick  woman’s  room  she  too  would  get  the 
cholera.  While  thinking  what  to  do  the  girl  heard 
Hou  So  say, 

“All  have  left  me.  My  husband  is  gone — he 
does  not  care  for  me — and  Leng  Tso  stays  away 
too.  She  hates  me,  and  wishes  that  I would  die. 
No  one  cares  for  me  here.  Once  I was  loved,  but 
not  here ; they  hated  the  stranger  when  she  came 
among  them,  and  have  made  the  stranger  hate 
them.  But  must  I die  here  alone?  Is  there  no 
u 


210 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


one  to  love  me,  no  one  to  weep  by  me,  no  one  to 
light  me  down  into  the  darkness?” 

Leng  Tso  could  not  bear  any  more.  Forgetting 
her  own  safety  and  her  fears,  she  hastened  into  the 
sick  woman’s  room,  and,  kneeling  by  her  bed,  said, 

“ Leng  Tso  will  cai'e  for  you.  She  came  a 
stranger  here.  She  was  unloved  once.  Her  heart 
knows  how  lonely  and  sad  the  stranger  is.  But 
you  must  not  die ; I will  watch  by  you.  I will 
pray  the  gods  and  the  spirits,  and  you  will  get  well ; 
then  you  will  love  me.” 

The  sudden  appearance  of  the  girl,  her  hopeful 
words,  and,  more  than  all,  her  sympathy,  put  new 
life  into  the  sinking  woman.  Forgetting  her  pain 
for  a moment,  she  turned  to  Leng  Tso,  and,  with  a 
wistful  look,  asked, 

“ Will  you  love  the  forsaken  and  hated  stranger? 
Her  heart  is  like  a bird  that  has  been  blown  by  the 
winds  into  a great  desert,  and,  hearing  no  song 
there,  her  song  has  long  since  been  hushed.” 

“ Yes,”  answered  Leng  Tso,  all  her  child-long- 
ing coming  back  again ; “ I wanted  to  love  you 
years  ago,  when  you  first  came,  but  I thought  that 
you  did  not  care  for  the  little  slave-girl’s  love.  I 
love  you  now.  But  you  must  be  quiet;  then  I 
will  make  you  well.” 

“ To  know  that  I have  one  friend  here  makes 
me  half  well  already,”  the  sick  woman  murmured 
softly  to  herself. 

As  their  medicines  seemed  useless,  the  supersti- 


THE  CHOLERA. 


211 


tious  people  thought  that  the  disease  was  caused  by 
an  evil  spirit  that  was  more  powerful  than  any 
remedies  they  had.  A strange  way  was  taken  to 
get  rid  of  this  evil  spirit  and  cure  the  sick.  They 
took  off  the  sick  person’s  clothing,  and  then  pinched 
and  beat  the  patient  with  their  hands,  beating  some- 
times so  severely  as  to  cause  not  a little  smarting 
and  pain.  The  object  of  this  was  to  frighten  the 
evil  spirit  out  of  the  body.  For  once  the  super- 
stition of  the  Chinese  proved  of  service  to  them, 
for  as  the  people  got  the  idea  of  the  evil  spirit 
causing  the  cholera  they  gradually  took  this  course 
of  frightening  him  away. 

Leng  Tso  had  just  heard  of  this  remedy,  and  told 
Hou  So  of  it.  The  sick  woman  was  willing  that 
anything  be  tried  if  she  might  only  get  well. 

Before  trying  the  remedy  the  young  girl  hurried 
to  the  temple  to  worship  the  gods  for  a few  mo- 
ments, praying  them  to  help  cure  Hou  So.  She 
made  an  excuse  for  going  out  to  the  sick  woman, 
who  said  to  her, 

“ Come  back  soon.  Do  not  leave  me  alone.” 

After  returning  from  the  temple,  Leng  Tso 
stepped  into  the  room  where  the  tablets  of  Hou’s 
ancestors  were,  and,  kneeling,  whispered  a hasty 
prayer  to  the  spirits  of  the  dead  to  help  her  cure 
the  sick  woman. 

As  she  entered  the  room  where  the  sufferer  lay, 
Hou  So  said,  but  not  in  the  fretful  tone  she  used 
so  constantly. 


212 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


‘‘I  was  afraid  that  you  had  forgotten  me.  No; 
you  will  not  leave  the  sick  friendless  woman  to 
die.”  Then,  as  if  a sudden  thought  had  struck 
her,  she  asked,  “ Did  you  go  to  the  temple  to  pray 
for  me?” 

“Yes,”  said  Leng  Tso,  “and  I prayed  to  the 
guardian  s])irits  of  this  .home  to  spare  you  to  be 
loved  and  to  show  that  you  do  love — that  you  have 
a mother’s  heart.” 

“You  did  not  pray  to  her  tablet  did  you?” 

“ No ; only  to  the  forefathers  of  the  home,”  said 
Leng  Tso,  who  knew  too  well  that  the  Chinese 
believe  the  s2)irits  of  the  dead  have  the  same  feel- 
ings in  the  other  world  that  they  would  have  here; 
and  to  pray  to  the  tablet  of  the  dead  Hou  So  to 
help  save  the  life  of  the  living  one  would  only  be 
telling  her  that  now  she  had  an  opportunity  to  kill 
the  new  wife  without  any  difficulty. 

“ Then  I will  get  well.  Yes,  I will  live.  I will 
be  well  again,”  said  the  woman,  hopefully.  “ Now 
cure  me.” 

After  telling  the  sick  woman  to  lie  on  her  face 
and  removing  her  clothing  in  part,  the  girl  began 
to  j)inch  and  beat  the  back  and  shoulders  of  the 
j)atient,  at  first  beating  lightly  with  her  flat  hand, 
then  striking  harder  and  harder,  until  the  blows 
became  very  painful.* 

* Some  years  ago  this  was  tlie  best-known  remedy  for  cholera 
among  tlie  Chinese.  The  writer  was  told,  on  the  authority  of 
a missionary  who  had  spent  not  a few  yeara  in  China,  and 


THE  CHOLERA. 


213 


The  sick  woman  bore  it  as  well  as  she  could,  feel- 
ing sure  that  in  this  way,  if  the  evil  spirit  did  not 
leave,  yet  the  disease  would  go.  Not  merely  for  a 
few  minutes,  but  for  a long  time,  was  this  alternate 
pinching,  slapping  and  beating  continued.  Leng 
Tso  grew  tired,  and  for  a few  moments  would  stop, 
soon  to  begin  again.  Whether  it  was  the  remedy 
or  the  presence  and  hopefulness  of  Leng  Tso  we 
do  not  know,  but  Hou  So  became  better ; the 
cholera  left  her,  and  before  many  days  she  was 
almost  as  well  as  ever. 

Her  fretfulness  and  unkindness  to  Leng  Tso  did 
not  return  with  the  return  of  health.  Instead,  the 
two  were  firm  and  loving  friends,  and  the  life  of 
the  sad  woman  was  made  happy  again  when  she 
found  some  one  to  love.  Not  only  did  Leng  Tso 
and  her  mistress  live  almost  as  mother  and  daugh- 
ter ; the  girl  brought  about  a friendly  feeling  be- 
tween Hou  So  and  the  village-people,  and  the  once 
lonely  woman  began  to  feel  that  Thau  Pau  was 
really  a home  to  her. 

After  taking  many  away  by  death  the  cholera 
left  the  village.  The  superstitious  people,  thinking 
that  it  had  been  a battle  between  the  gods  and  the 
evil  spirits,  and  that  the  gods  had  conquered,  gave 
a great  feast  in  honor  of  the  idols.  Some  who  ate 

who  was  a close  observer,  that  the  remedy  was  supposed  to 
cure  as  large  a proportion  of  patients  as  did  the  treatment  of 
foreign  physicians ; nor  is  the  remedy  entirely  without  reason, 
as  those  well  acquainted  with  the  course  of  the  disease  will 
understand. 


214 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GTRL. 


of  the  food,  after  the  gods  were  supposed  to  have 
taken  their  share,  said — and  among  them  was  Liong 
— “ Our  gods  do  not  deserve  a feast.  If  tliey  can- 
not master  the  evil  spirits,  they  should  not  be  gods 
at  all.” 

They  were  right  in  thinking  that  a god  should 
be  strong  enough  to  take  care  of  his  people,  no  mat- 
ter what  trouble  might  come  upon  them.  Khiau 
once  said  that  he  did  not  want  a god  who  could  not 
be  trusted,  but  needed  watching  all  the  time  lest  he 
bring  trouble  upon  those  who  worshiped.  Heathen 
gods  are  poor  gods.  If  tliey  were  real  and  lived 
in  the  world,  they  would  hardly  be  respectable  peo- 
ple ; and,  as  for  caring  for  those  who  serve  them, 
they  would  bring  far  more  trouble  upon  their  wor- 
shipers than  they  took  away. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


ANOTHER  SLAVERY. 

MOXG  those  who  had  died  of  the  cholera  was 


Jiong,  Khiau’s  father.  His  widow,  finding 
that  her  husband  had  left  her  with  but  little  prop- 
erty and  many  debts,  accepted  an  offer  from  Jiong’s  . 
brother,  leased  him  the  property  for  a number  of 
years,  and  moved  from  the  village. 

Xot  long  after  the  cholera  disappeared  Hou 
returned ; he  told  no  one  where  he  had  been,  and 
said  vei’y  little  about  his  absence.  As  soon  as  he 
came  back  he  went  to  his  field  to  see  about  his  crops, 
expecting  to  find  the  rice-crop  fully  ripe.  This  field 
was  so  situated  that  it  was  flooded  by  the  water 
from  a spring,  and  so  had  needed  but  little  care 
during  his  absence.  He  was  surprised  and  aston- 
ished to  see  that  the  rice  had  been  cut  and  gathered ; 
not  a sheaf,  and  hardly  a rice-straw,  was  left  on  the 
field.  From  appearances,  it  had  only  been  gather- 
ed a day  or  two  before,  and  Hou  supposed  that  his 
wife  and  Leng  Tso  had  seen  that  the  crop  was  cared 
for.  AVhen  he  came  to  the  house  he  asked  his  wife, 
“What  did  you  do  with  the  rice?” 

“ Rice  ?”  said  she ; “ what  rice  ? I have  done 


215 


216 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-GIRL. 


notliing  with  any  rice;  I have  had  the  cholera,  and 
been  too  sick  to  think  of  the  crops.” 

Hou  then  asked  Leng  Tso  what  had  been  done 
with  the  rice. 

“ Has  the  rice  been  gathered  ?”  she  asked.  “ I 
did  not  know  that  it  was  ripe  yet.” 

“Have  you  not,  then,  been  to  the  field  lately?” 
asked  Hou.  “ What  have  vou  been  doingr  while  I 
was  away?  What  do  I have  you  for,  if  not  to 
see  to  my  work  in  the  field?” 

“ I have  attended  to  Hou  So,”  she  rejdied,  “ who 
has  been  very  sick  with  the  cholera.” 

“But  she  has  been  well  for  some  days;  what 
have  you  been  doing  since  she  recovered?” 

“She  is  not  strong  yet,  and  I have  taken  care 
of  the  house ; besides,  I did  not  know  what  to  do 
in  the  field.” 

“ Did  not  know  what  to  do  ? Have  you  been 
with  me  so  many  years,  and  yet  do  not  know  what 
to  do?” 

But  Hou  was  too  anxious  about  his  rice  to  stop 
and  talk  longer.  He  asked  different  people  in  the 
village  if  they  knew  where  it  was.  None  seemed 
to  know,  for  during  the  excitement  of  the  cholera 
very  little  had  been  done  in  the  field.  At  last  he 
learned  from  one  man  that  several  strangers  had 
been  cutting  the  rice  a few  days  before,  and  when 
he  asked  who  had  told  them  to  do  it  they  said 
that  the  owner  had  hired  them  to  cut  it  for  Iiim. 
Who  the  men  were  no  one  knew,  but  none  doubted 


ANOTHER  SLAVERY. 


217 


that  they  had  known  of  Hou’s  absence,  and  had 
stolen  his  rice. 

Hou’s  anger  knew  no  bounds.  He  dared  not 
say  much  to  the  villagers,  but  hastened  home  to 
vent  his  rage  on  Leng  Tso..  He  blamed  her  for 
the  robbery,  and  said  that  if  she  had  watched  the 
field  the  rice  would  not  have  been  stolen.  He  was 
about  to  strike  the  slave-girl,  when  his  wife,  hear- 
ing the  loud,  angry  voice  of  passion,  hastened  into 
the  room  and  forbade  him  to  touch  the  girl. 

“ If  you  had  not  sneaked  off  like  a whipped 
dog,”  she  exclaimed,  “ because  the  cholera  came, 
no  one  would  have  stolen  your  rice.  The  wonder 
is  that  all  your  property  is  not  stolen,  for  people 
know  that  you  are  a coward.  Xone  but  a coward 
would  strike  an  innocent,  helpless  girl.” 

The  old  fear  of  his  wife  still  restrained  Hou, 
but  it  did  not  stop  his  thir.st  for  revenge  on  some 
one  for  his  loss.  He  saw  that  a deep  friendship  had 
sprung  up  between  his  wife  and  slave-girl  in  his 
ab.'^ence,  and  therefore  he  dared  not  attempt  to  pun- 
ish Leng  Tso,  for  his  wife  would  certainly  prevent 
him.  He  went  down  to  the  field  again  to  brood 
over  his  loss  and  think  of  some  plan  by  which  he 
might  gratify  his  anger.  He  soon  formed  one. 

The  cholera  had  no  doubt  left  many  children 
fatherless,  and  perhaps  orphans,  and  he  might  buy 
cheaji  another  slave-girl  who  was  able  to  woi’k. 
He  would  sell  Leng  Tso,  and  sell  her  to  a man 
who  would  make  her  life  miserable.  He  would  sell 


218 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


her  to  be  what  the  Chinese  call  a “ second  wife  ” 
of  a man  who  had  one  or  more  wives  already ; 
for  some  men  in  China  have  more  than  one  wife. 
This  “second  wife”  is  little  more  than  a slave 
of  the  first  one ; and  if  she  have  children,  they 
are  called  the  children  of  the  first  wife.  Her  they 
must  love,  honor  and  obey ; for  her  they  must 
mourn  if  she  dies;  while  their  own  mother  is  to 
them  little  more  than  a servant.  Hon  determined 
to  sell  Leng  Tso  to  be  sucli  a wife. 

In  the  village  of  Auko,  where  Hou  had  stayed 
during  the  cholera  season,  tliere  lived  a rich  man 
who  was  married,  but  had  no  children ; this  man 
had  told  Hou  that  he  meant  to  get  a “ second  wife.” 
He  was  an  opium-smoker,  but  he  was  wealthy, 
and  Hou  knew  that  he  would  pay  a large  sum  of 
money  for  any  one  who  pleased  him.  Here  was  an 
opportunity  to  take  revenge  on  Leng  Tso  for  neg- 
lecting his  work,  and  at  the  same  time  sell  his 
slave-girl  at  a large  price. 

Early  the  next  morning  Hou  started  for  Auko. 
He  happened  to  meet  the  opium-smoker  in  one 
of  his  reckless  moods,  and  the  bargain  was  soon 
made.  If  the  slave-girl  suited  him,  one  hundred 
and  seventy  dollars  were  to  be  paid  for  her;  twenty 
were  paid  down  to  seal  the  bargain,  and  the  girl 
was  to  be  brought  to  Auko  within  three  days. 
Proud  of  his  price,  Hou  hastened  back  to  Thau 
Pau.  Nothing  more  was  said  of  the  stolen  rice. 
He  was  cheerful,  and  almost  pleasant,  to  his  wife 


ANOTHER  SLAVERY. 


219 


and  Leng  Tso.  They  wondered  what  it  meant, 
but  said  nothing. 

That  night  Hou  questioned  in  his  mind  what 
course  to  take  to  get  Leng  Tso  to  Auko.  He 
dared  not  tell  his  wife,  and  yet  he  did  not  know 
how  to  take  the  girl  away  without  Hou  So  finding 
it  out.  He  knew  that  as  the  bargain  had  been 
made,  and  part  of  the  money  paid  down,  he  could 
not  draw  back ; yet  he  was  certain  that  his  wife 
would  try  to  force  him  to  break  the  agreement 
if  she  learned  of  it.  At  length  he  formed  a plan 
that  promised  success.  He  had  no  fears  of  Leng 
Tso,  for  he  knew  that  he  had  the  power  to  sell  her 
to  whom  he  chose,  and  also  that  her  fear  of  him 
would  compel  her  to  do  as  he  wished. 

After  a while  Hou  began  to  look  at  the  other 
side,  and  to  think  to  what  a life  he  was  selling 
Leng  Tso,  He  knew  that  it  was  constantly  done, 
that  Chinese  law  allowed  it,  and  yet  he  felt  that 
Leng  Tso  deserved  better  treatment.  He  remem- 
bered that  she  had  been  faithful  to  him,  and, 
although  he  had  often  treated  her  with  great  cru- 
elty, yet  she  had  always  been  forgiving.  The  more 
Hou  thought  of  selling  her  to  be  a “ second  wife,” 
the  more  sorry  he  was  that  the  bargain  had  been 
made;  he  knew  that  the  man  could  compel  him 
to  give  up  the  slave-girl,  and  he  was  certain  that 
when  he  saw  Leng  Tso  the  man  would  be  satisfied 
with  her, 

Hou  tried  to  sleep,  but  it  was  a restless  night 


220 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


to  him.  He  dreamed  that  he  was  throwing  Leng 
Tso  to  tigers,  and  that  she  begged  him  to  save 
her  from  them,  and  when  he  refused  she  prayed 
the  gods  to  send  tigers  to  destroy  him.  When 
morning  came,  if  he  could  have  broken  the  bar- 
gain, he  would  have  done  so.  As  he  was  not  com- 
pelled to  take  her  until  the  third  day,  he  waited 
over  two  days,  and  on  the  morning  of  the  third 
told  Leng  Tso  that  he  wanted  her  to  go  with  him 
on  business  to  some  other  village.  The  girl  did 
not  know  what  he  meant  by  this  unusual  demand. 
Hou  So  objected,  and  said  that  the  girl  should  not 
go.  At  length  she  forced  him  to  say  that  he  had 
sold  Leng  Tso  to  be  the  wife  of  a man  in  a neigh- 
borinof  village.  But  he  would  not  tell  her  to 
whom  or  where  he  had  sold  the  girl.  Hou  showed 
his  wife  the  agreement  and  part  of  the  bargain- 
money  ; she  then  knew  that  she  could  do  nothing 
to  prevent  it.  To  make  Leng  Tso  more  willing 
to  go,  and  his  wife  more  ready  to  allow  her  to 
leave,  Hou  said  that  the  man  was  yet  young  and 
rich,  and,  more  than  that,  was  a kind  and  good 
man ; but  he  said  nothing  about  his  being  an 
opium-smoker,  and  nothing  about  Leng  Tso  be- 
ing only  a “second  wife.” 

The  poor  girl  was  troubled.  Thau  Pau  was 
home  to  her  now ; she  had  many  friends  there, 
and  she  had  learned  to  love  Hou  So  almost  as  a 
mother.  And  then  Khiau  ! He  had  promised  to 
set  her  free  and  make  her  his  wife.  But  where 


ANOTHER  SLAVERY. 


221 


was  Kliiau?  More  than  four  years  had  passed 
since  he  left  Than  Pan,  and  more  than  one  since 
anybody  had  heard  from  him  at  all.  When  he 
left  he  said  that  he  would  come  back  after  one 
year ; then  he  sent  word  that  he  was  going  away 
to  a foreign  land,  but  would  return  in  four  years, 
and  with  a fortune.  She  had  counted  the  months 
of  those  years  very  often,  and  even  counted  the 
days  of  the  last  year  as  they  went  slowly  by ; yet 
the  whole  number  passed  and  he  did  not  come,"  and 
now  there  had  been  no  news  from  him  for  more 
than  a year.  Had  he,  in  the  foreign  land,  forgot- 
ten his  promise  to  the  slave-girl  to  come  back  with 
money  to  buy  her  for  his  wife?  Had  he  found 
some  one  there  whom  he  loved  better?  Had  he 
forgotten  the  slave-girl  entirely?  Or  was  Khiau 
dead  ? 

She  had  not  forgotten  him  ; she  never  would. 
Since  his  absence  Leng  Tso  had  learned  how  much 
she  loved  Khiau.  He  was  all  the  world  had  for 
her;  and  as  each  year  passed  and  she  became  a 
woman,  Khiau  seemed  to  grow  more  dear  to  her, 
just  as  we  love  the  absent  ones  the  more  because 
they  are  away.  Every  day,  every  hour,  she 
thought  of  him.  Every  night  she  dreamed  of 
him.  Now  he  was  a boy  again  in  Thau  Pau, 
and  they  were  talking  together  under  the  old 
banyan  tree ; then  she  saw  him  in  a foreign  laud 
working  hard  and  slowly  gaining  the  money  to 
set  her  free.  But  he  seemed  so  sad  and  weary,  as 


222 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


though  he  were  giving  liis  life  to  buy  her  freedom. 
At  one  time  she  thought  he  was  coming  with  a 
large  sum  of  money,  but  robbers  met  and  took  it 
all,  and  he  came  to  her  saying,  “It  is  all  gone;  I 
must  go  back  to  earn  more.”  Then,  in  her  dreams, 
she  saw  him  again  settling  the  bargain  with  Hou 
and  paying  the  last  of  the  money ; and  as  her  heart 
was  happy  with  the  great  joy  of  being  free  and 
being  Khiau’s  wife,  she  awoke  to  find  it  all  a 
dream.  Khiau  was  still  absent.  Oh,  where  was 
he?  AVhy  did  he  not  come  back?  Could  it  be 
that  he  was  dead  ? Had  those  often-repeated  pray- 
ers to  the  gods  and  to  the  spirits  of  the  dead  not 
been  heard  ? To  them  she  had  told  her  love,  but 
to  no  mortal  ear  had  she  ever  spoken  of  the  place 
Khiau  had  in  her  heart.  If  he  were  dead,  she 
did  not  wish  to  live;  and,  since  the  five  years  had 
gone  and  he  had  not  come,  she  felt  that  he  must 
be  dead.  She  wished  that  the  cholera  had  taken 
her  too ; then,  perhaps,  she  might  see  him — might 
be  with  him  in  the  spirit-world. 

“Yes,  Khiau  is  dead,  or  he  would  come,”  she 
often  said  to  herself.  Dead ! and  what  did  it  mat- 
ter now  what  became  of  the  slave-girl  ? She  knew 
that  Hou  would  sell  her  to  be  the  wife  of  some 
one,  and  it  mattered  little  to  whom  it  should  be 
or  to  what  place  she  should  go.  Yet  she  clung 
to  Hou  So,  and  Thau  Pau  was  the  only  home  that 
she  remembered  ; but,  more  than  the  friends  and  the 
home,  there  Khiau  had  lived,  there  he  promised 


ANOTHER  SLAVERY. 


223 


to  meet  her,  there  he  promised  to  set  her  free  and 
make  her  his  wife.  If  he  should  return,  he  would 
not  find  her  at  Thau  Pau.  No ; the  wife  of 
another,  she  would  be  lost  to  Khiau  for  ever. 
"When  Leng  Tso  realized  that  she  must  go,  and 
go  at  once,  to  belong  to  another  man,  the  last  faint 
hope  died  away  in  the  heart  of  the  poor  girl.  To 
tell  of  Khiau’s  promise,  to  plead  with  Hou,  she 
knew  would  be  useless ; for  had  he  been  willing  to 
wait  for  a while,  yet  the  bargain  had  been  made, 
and  she  knew  Hou  would  not  sacrifice  money  to 
break  the  contract,  even  if  he  could  have  done 
so. 

She  could  do  nothing  but  submit.  Sadly,  silent- 
ly, she  began  her  preparations  to  bid  good-bye  to 
Thau  Pau,  probably  for  ever.  Hou  So,  now 
bemoaning  her  own  sad  lot,  and  now  bitterly 
denouncing  her  husband  for  robbing  her  of  the 
only  one  .she  loved,  busied  herself  in  prepai’ing  a 
last  feast  for  Leng  Tso.  The  poor  girl  could  not 
eat,  and  left  the  food  untouched.  With  a last  long 
embrace  that  showed  the  true  mother-heart  in  Hou 
So,  the  two  parted,  and  Hou  and  his  slave-girl 
started  from  the  village,  Hou  So  promising  be- 
fore many  months  to  visit  Leng  Tso  in  her  new 
home. 

Hou’s  heai’t  was  touched  as  he  saw  the  sadness  of 
the  young  girl.  He  was  ashamed  of  himself,  and 
gladly  would  he  have  undone  his  deed.  But  it  was 
too  late  now.  He  felt  that  it  was  mean,  contempt- 


224 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


ible,  in  him  to  be  revenged  on  the  innocent  girl  for 
his  own  cowai’dice;  and  he  determined  to  try  to 
make  the  man  give  up  the  bargain,  or,  if  he  were 
unwilling,  at  least  to  agree  that  she  should  be 
treated  kindly. 

After  they  left  the  village  he  allowed  Leng  Tso 
to  stop  for  a long  time  to  look  back  on  her  old 
home.  As  they  were  about  starting  she  sobbed 
out,  “ Sin  khu  li  khui,  sim-koa  long  hoe  ” {“  The  body 
leaves,  the  heart  cannot”).  Hou  wished  now  that 
he  had  never  thought  of  selling  Leng  Tso.  At 
length  the  two  journeyed  slowly  on,  and  finally 
reached  the  village  of  Auko. 

Sek,  the  man  who  had  bought  Leng  Tso,  was 
pleased,  even  delighted,  with  her  appearance,  and 
would  not  listen  to  the  offer  to  give  up  the  bargain, 
even  though  Hou  was  ready  to  lose  many  dollars 
besides  the  money  he  had  already  received.  But 
the  man  very  willingly  agreed  to  see  that  his 
“ second  wife  ” was  kindly  treated  in  his  home. 
Hou  offered  to  take  fifty  dollars  less  than  the  bar- 
gain if  the  man  would  sign  a written  promise  that 
Leng  Tso  should  never  be  abused  in  any  way. 

“ No  need  of  a promise,”  said  he.  “ I am  mas- 
ter here,  and  I will  see  that  she  is  kindly  treated.” 

Little  reason  though  Leng  Tso  had  to  love  her 
old  master,  yet  the  girl’s  heart  was  sad,  notwith- 
standing all  his  cruelty  to  her,  when  she  saw  Hou 
turn  away  and  leave  her. 

Sek,  Leng  Tso’s  new  master  or  husband,  was,  as 


Long  Tso  leaving  Tliau  ]>ai 


l>iige 


■^1.  ^ 


ANOTHER  SLAVERY. 


225 


Hou  said,  yet  a young  man,  and,  unlike  many 
Chinamen,  he  was  almost  handsome ; besides,  he 
Avas  kind  and  pleasant — a great  contrast  to  Hou. 
He  was  a man  whom  every  one  in  the  village 
liked,  but  he  had  one  bad  habit : he  was  an  opium- 
smoker.  Already  had  opium  begun  to  leave  marks 
of  its  curse  on  his  face ; he  was  looking  old  and 
growing  thin  and  sallow,  as  thongh  some  hidden 
disease  were  destroying  his  strength  and  eating 
away  his  life. 

Left  an  only  child  with  a large  property  and 
good  business  talent,  he  had  added  greatly  to  his 
wealth  until  he  was  known  as  the  richest  man  in 
the  neighborhood  of  Auko.  In  an  evil  hour, 
while  away  from  home  on  business,  he  was  induced 
by  some  of  his  friends  to  shai’e  with  them  the 
opium-pipe.  When  he  returned  to  Auko  he 
brought  with  him  a fearful  enemy.  The  opium- 
habit  had  already  made  him  its  companion ; soon 
it  would  make  him  its  slave,  and  at  last  its 
victim. 

When  Sek  bought  Leng  Tso  he  had  become  the 
slave  to  opium.  He  had  given  up  business  and 
Avas  living  a life  of  leisure.  He  grew  careless  of 
his  own  interests  and  neglected  his  property.  He 
was  gradually  wasting  his  means,  too,  in  buying 
the_ costly  drug.  Nor  did  he  buy  only  for  himself. 
Being  of  a social  nature,  he  induced  other  young 
men  of  the  village  to  smoke  with  him,  and  for  a 
time  he  gave  them  the  means  to  smoke. 

15 


226 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


I^eng  Tso’s  new  home  was  a large  house,  or 
ratlier  a number  of  houses  connected  together  by 
an  outside  wall,  and  was  furnished  far  better  than 
most  Chinese  houses.  Though  she  had  luxuries 
of  which  she  had  never  heard  in  Thau  Pau,  yet 
there  were  in  her  heart  the  old  longing  and  home- 
sickness to  be  back  in  the  little  walled  village; 
more  than  this,  she  felt  a deeper  and  more  constant 
longing  for  Khiau.  Sek  was  kind  and  everything 
in  her  new  home  was  pleasant  except  the  first  wife. 
She  treated  Leng  Tso  kindly  for  a few  days;  but 
when  the  woman  saw  that  her  husband  preferred 
the  “ new  woman,”  her  kindness  was  changed  to 
harshness,  dislike  and  hatred.  She  made  Leng 
Tso  her  servant,  and  soon  treated  her  as  a slave. 
No  work  was  too  hard  for  her,  no  service  too  de- 
grading. Nor  dared  the  young  woman  refuse  : she 
was  only  a second  wife,  and  Sek  So  might  force  her 
to  do  as  she  chose  in  spite  of  any  opposition  she 
might  make. 

One  day,  when  her  mistress  had  scolded,  abused, 
and  even  beaten  her,  Leng  Tso  told  Sek  of  the 
treatment  received.  He  rebuked  his  wife  sharply, 
and  forbade  her  ever  striking  Leng  Tso  again. 
From  this  time  Sek  So  seemed  to  take  delight  in 
annoying  the  young  woman  and  making  her  life 
misei-able  in  other  ways  than  by  beating  and 
scolding.  It  would  have  been  far  easier  for  Leng 
Tso  to  have  been  beaten  every  day  than  to  have 
been  annoyed  constantly  as  she  was,  and  made  to 


ANOTHER  SLAVERY. 


227 


do  the  meanest  and  most  degrading  work  in  the 
household. 

Thus  three  years  passed.  They  were  bitter  years 
to  Leng  Tso.  In  this  time  there  came  to  her  a lit- 
tle one  that  she  thought  would  make  her  sad  life 
happy  again,  but  it  only  added  to  her  sorrow. 
The  young  mother’s  heart  was  bound  up  in  her 
child — it  was  her  all ; but  soon  the  little  one  was 
taken  from  her  to  become  the  son  of  Sek  So.  It 
was  taught  to  call  her  mother,  to  love  her,  to  be 
with  her,  and  to  treat  its  own  mother  as  its  servant. 
Leng  Tso  was  even  forbidden  after  a while  to 
speak  to  the  child,  or  by  any  means  to  try  to  win 
its  love.  In  this  way  did  her  mistress  make  Leng 
Tso’s  life  miserable.  The  poor  mother  learned  to 
hate  her,  and  gladly  would  have  seen  the  hard 
woman  die  ; she  even  hoped,  and  almost  prayed, 
that  something  would  take  Sek  So  away. 

Sek  himself  was  rapidly  going  the  way  that 
opium-smoking  drives  its  victims.  His  hollow 
cheeks  and  sunken  eyes,  his  loss  of  appetite  and 
growing  indifference  to  everything  around  him, 
told  that  opium  was  making  him  a wreck.  He 
tried  to  keep  peace  between  Sek  So  and  his  second 
wife,  but  his  mind,  like  his  body,  was  failing;  and 
his  wife  had  learned  to  fear  little  what  her  husband 
said.  Not  only  was  Sek  himself  wasting  away ; 
his  2>roperty  was  ra^iidly  passing  from  his  hands. 
The  habit  that  he  had  hel{)ed  other  young  men  to 
form  was  I'uining  them  as  well  as  Sek.  He  was  no 


228 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


longer  the  respected  and  honored  man  he  had  been 
in  the  village. 

Those  whose  sons  and  brothers  had  been  led 
astray  by  the  example  and  influence  of  Sek  learned 
to  dislike,  and  even  hate  him,  and  wished  to  drive 
him  from  the  village.  Having  spent  his  own 
money,  Sek  had  borrowed  of  others.  But  as  he 
continued  borrowing  and  spending,  yet  earning  no 
money,  people  began  to  fear  that  he  would  borrow 
more  than  his  property  was  worth.  Some  from 
fear  of  losing  their  money,  others  because  of  dis- 
like to  the  opium-smoker,  and  others  still  from  a 
desire  to  get  control  of  his  property,  consulted  to- 
gether how  the  village  might  be  rid  of  Sek.  They 
knew  that  if  the  money  were  demanded  he  would 
be  obliged  to  sell  his  property  and  leave  the  vil- 
lage. So  one  creditor  after  another  called  for  his 
money.  The  wretched  man,  weakened  by  constant 
use  of  opium,  knew  not  what  to  do.  In  vain  he 
tried  to  borrow  more  to  pay  what  he  owed ; no  one 
would  lend  to  an  opium-smoker  who  was  already 
very  heavily  in  debt.  Sek  was  forced  to  sell  his 
property.  The  peoj)le  had  combined  together  and 
bought  it  at  a very  low  price;  not  a great  deal 
more  was  paid  for  it  than  enougli  to  settle  his  debts. 

Few  sympathized  with  the  ruined  man.  Broken 
down  in  body,  and  almost  in  heart,  having  only  a 
scant  remnant  of  his  once  large  property,  he  took 
his  two  wives  and  his  son,  left  the  village  and 
moved  to  the  large  Foo  city.  It  was  a sad  part- 


ANOTHER  SLAVERY. 


229 


ing  to  Sek  when  he  left  his  comfortable  home  in 
Auko,  A few  of  his  companions  whom  he  had  led 
astray  still  clung  to  him,  and  would  gladly  have 
had  Sek  remain  in  the  village,  but  the  rest  of  the 
people  i-ejoiced  to  see  him  go. 

“ It  was  not  me  they  respected  and  loved,”  said 
he,  ‘‘  it  was  my  money  only.  When  I had  wealth, 
then  I was  honored ; now  that  it  is  gone,  my  best 
friends  turn  away  from  me.  Men’s  hearts  live 
in  dollars,  but  die  as  soon  as  the  dollars  are 
gone !” 

Sek  Avas  not  entirely  right.  The  honored  Sek 
of  a few  years  ago  Avas  a very  different  man  from 
the  broken-doAvn  opium-smoker  Avho  Avas  leaving 
the  village  of  Auko  Avitli  the  remnants  of  a large 
fortune. 

Sek  had  brought  his  misfortune  and  disgrace 
upon  himself.  He  Avho  does  not  take  care  of  him- 
self must  not  expect  that  the  world  Avill  do  it  for 
him.  Sek  chose  to  ruin  himself,  the  people  let  him 
do  it,  and  Avhen  the  ruin  was  nearly  complete  he 
complained  because  men  did  not  respect  the  wreck 
as  they  once  did  the  noble  man. 

Sek  So  blamed  her  husband  in  cutting  AA’ords  for 
all  their  misfortunes,  and  bemoaned  the  liard  lot  of 
having  an  opium-smoker  for  a husband.  She  liad 
no  AAmrds  of  kindness,  no  feelings  of  sympathy,  for 
the  poor  man ; she  thought  of  her  OAvn  troubles 
only.  But  Leng  Tso,  true  to  her  nature,  tried  to 
cheer  him,  telling  him  that  he  might  yet  be  a man 


230 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


and  rich  again  if  he  would  only  give  up  opium- 
smoking. 

“ It  is  too  late,”  said  he ; “ the  demon  has  me  in 
his  power.  I cannot  break  loose  alone,  and  no  one 
will  help  me.” 

“I  will  help  you,”  said  she;  “only  tell  me  bow. 
Do  not  despair.  You  have  enough  money  left  to 
start  a shop  in  the  Foo  city;  leave  olF  opium,  and 
you  will  soon  make  a fortune.” 

Encouraged  by  her  cheerful  words,  Sek  deter- 
mined to  try  to  reform,  but  he  said  he  must  do  it 
gradually. 

“ If  you  do  not  give  up  at  once,”  said  Long  Tso, 
“opium  will  keep  its  mastery  over  you.” 

Y’hen  the  regular  time  in  the  day  for  taking  his 
opium  came,  the  old  craving  came  back  with  a 
giant’s  power,  and  Sek  was  forced  to  smoke  again. 
He  insisted  that  Leng  Tso  should  prepare  the 
opium  for  him,  but  lessen  the  quantity  each  day; 
“and  thus,”  said  he,  “you  may  help  me  conquer 
the  demon.” 

But  farther  on  we  will  tell  more  of  the  struggle. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

KHIA  U RETURNS  TO  THA  U PA  U. 

EXG  TSO  had  been  away  for  several  months, 


when  one  day  toward  evening  there  came  to 
Thau  Pau  a stranger.  The  people  eyed  him 
closely,  but  none  recognized  him.  He  was  yet 
a young  man,  but  his  face  was  careworn  and  he 
seemed  like  one  who  had  lived  forty-five  years  in 
half  that  time.  As  he  passed  by  one  and  another 
of  the  villagers  he  spoke  pleasantly,  seeming  to 
know  the  most  of  them,  but  did  not  stop  to  talk 
with  any.  He  hurried  to  the  house  in  which 
Jiong  used  to  live,  and,  passing  through  the  pai'tly- 
open  door,  stood  face  to  face  with  a stranger.  He 
stopped  and  started  back  with  a look  of  surprise, 
then,  looking  around  the  room,  asked, 

“Does  not  Le  Jiong  live  here?” 

“Xo,”  said  the  man  ; “ Le  Jiong  is  dead.” 

“ What ! dead  ?”  said  the  stranger.  “ Is  my 
father  dead?” 

“ Yes,”  replied  the  man ; “ he  died  of  cholera 
last  year.” 

“Oh,  my  father,  my  father,  are  you  gone?”  said 
the  distressed  traveler. 


231 


232 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


“Are  you  Kliiau,  tlie  son  of  Jiong?”  asked  tlie 
man. 

“ Yes,”  said  the  stranger,  “ and  this  was  my 
home  four  and  a half  years  ago.  Father,  mother, 
brothers,  sisters,  all  lived  happily  here;  where  are 
they  now?” 

“Your  father  is  dead;  your  mother  with  her 
family  has  moved  away  from  the  village.  She  has 
rented  the  proj)erty  to  my  father.” 

“ Is  your  father  my  uncle  Ban  ?” 

“Yes,  and  I am  his  son  Lim.  Since  you  went 
away,  you  sec,  I have  grown  to  be  a man,  am 
married  and  living  here  in  your  old  home.” 

The  greeting  between  Khiau  and  his  cousin  was 
not  very  Avarm  at  first ; each  one  felt  that  the  other 
was  an  intruder.  But  Khiau  soon  regained  his 
old  pleasant  nature,  and  in  the  anxiety  to  know 
about  his  friends  he  for  the  time  forgot  the  lo.ss  of 
his  father,  and  began  questioning  his  cousin  about 
the  things  that  had  taken  place  during  his  long 
absence.  One  question  that  he  wished  to  ask  first 
he  could  not  find  voice  to  ask  at  all.  He  had  been 
away  so  long  that  he  hardly  dared  hope  that  Leng 
Tso  was  still  in  the  village.  At  length  he  asked 
Lim  to  tell  all  that  had  taken  place  in  Thau  Pan 
during  his  own  absence. 

With  each  new  sentence  Khiau  hoped  some- 
thina:  would  be  said  about  Leng;  Tso.  At  last 

O O 

I>im  said, 

“You  remember  Hem’s  slave-girl,  Leng  Tso?” 


KHIAU  RETURNS  TO  THAU  PAU.  233 


“Yes,”  said  Khiaii,  eagerly ; “did  she  die  with 
the  cholera?” 

“No,”  said  Lira,  “but  it  would  have  been  as 
well  for  her  if  she  had.  Hou  sold  her  to  be  the 
second  wife  of  a rich  man  who  lives  in  a village 
over  the  mountains.  He  is  an  opium-smoker,  and 
will  be  poor  some  day.  We  only  learned  a few 
days  ago  where  she  is,  for  Hou  would  tell  no  one, 
not  even  his  wife,  to  whom  he  had  sold  the  girl.” 

When  Khiau  heard  this  news  his  heart  sunk 
within  him.  He  suffered  Lim  to  go  on  with  his 
story,  but  heard  nothing  more  than  the  fact  that 
Leng  Tso  had  been  sold  to  be  the  second  wife  of 
an  o])ium-smoker.  Fortunately,  the  room  was 
dark,  so  that  Lim  could  not  see  the  effect  of  this 
last  news  on  Khiau.  The  poor  fellow  felt  lost, 
forsaken  and  helpless.  His  father  dead,  the  fam- 
ily gone,  the  old  home  deserted  by  them  and  in 
the  hands  of  comparative  strangers,  but,  last  and 
hardest  of  all,  Leng  Tso  the  wife  of  another,  and 
perhaps  the  slave  of  a cruel  mistress ! He  felt 
crushed,  and  wished  that  he  had  never  come 
back  from  the  foreign  country — that  he  had  died 
there  and  been  buried  among  strangers.  Then,  at 
least,  he  might  have  thought  that  it  was  well  in 
Thau  Pan,  and  that  those  he  loved  were  still  liv- 
ing, loving  and  waiting  for  him. 

It  was  too  late  that  night  for  Khiau  to  seek  his 
mother  and  famil}'^,  but  he  wanted  to  leave  Thau 
Pan  at  once,  never  to  see  it  again.  When  he  could 


234 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


command  his  voice  enough  to  speak  calmly,  Khiau 
began,  at  Lira’s  request,  to  tell  his  own  story. 

He  had  soon  found  work  as  a boatman  in  Au 
Lam,  and  at  good  wages — very  large  to  him.  He 
was  making  money  fast,  and  expected  to  return 
home  with  many  hundred  dollars  when  the  four 
years  had  gone  by.  Three  and  a half  years  passed, 
and  he  was  beginning  to  look  eagerly  forward  to 
his  return.  He  had  already  set  the  time,  and 
counted  the  months  before  he  would  be  in  Thau 
Pan  with  money  enough  to  make  himself  happy. 
But  when  less  than  six  months  of  his  time  for 
staying  at  Au  Lam  remained,  he  became  very  sick 
— so  ill  that  none  expected  him  to  recover.  He 
could  tell  little  about  the  sickness,  for  he  was  delir- 
ious most  of  the  time.  Finally  he  got  better,  and 
slowly  recovered  his  strength.  When  well  enough 
to  attend  to  his  affairs,  he  found  that  the  man  with 
whom  he  had  deposited  his  money  had  gone  away, 
no  one  knew  where,  and  had  taken  with  him  all 
Khiau’s  hard-earned  dollars.  It  was  useless  to  try 
to  find  the  man ; he  had  taken  other  money  besides 
Kliiau’s,  and  the  owners  had  tried  in  vain  to  find 
out  where  the  thief  had  gone. 

Khiau’s  loss  and  great  disajipointment  nearly 
broke  him  down,  and  for  a while  the  old  disease 
seemed  ready  to  come  back.  He  had  been  home- 
sick before,  but  now  could  not  control  the  longing 
to  go  to  Thau  Pau.  Yet  he  had  no  money — not 
even  enough  to  pay  his  passage  home.  Besides,  he 


KHIATJ  RETURNS  TO  THAU  PAU.  235 


was  in  debt  to  those  who  had  taken  care  of  him 
daring  his  sickness.  He  was  forced  to  begin  work 
again,  not  only  to  earn  money  to  take  him  home, 
but  to  pay  his  debts.  He  had  not  the  heart  to 
send  word  of  his  loss  to  Thau  Pan,  and  felt  that 
unless  he  could  give  a reason  for  staying  longer  it 
Avould  be  better  to  say  nothing  at  all. 

Instead  of  going  to  work  again  at  his  old  busi- 
ness, after  earning  a few  dollars  he  began  to  buy 
and  sell  whatever  he  could  make  a profit  on,  and 
in  a short  time  had  made  enough  money  to  carry 
on  quite  a large  business.  In  this  way  he  gained 
several  hundred  dollars  in  a little  more  than  a year. 
As  soon  as  he  felt  sure  that  he  had  enough  to  buy 
Leng  Tso  and  to  begin  life  for  himself,  he  sold  out 
his  business  and  took  the  first  vessel  for  Ha  Bun. 
Hardly  an  hour  had  he  tarried  on  the  way  after 
reaching  the  city,  as  he  thought  every  moment 
saved  might  be  the  more  likely  to  bring  him 
home  before  Leng  Tso  was  sold.  Khiau  made  his 
story  as  short  as  possible,  saying  nothing  at  all 
about  Leng  Tso  or  his  own  fearful  disappoint- 
ment. 

After  answering  many  of  Lim’s  questions  about 
the  foreign  country  and  eating  the  supper  ))rovid- 
ed,  Kliiau  went  out  and  seated  himself  under  the 
old  banyan  tree  where  he  had  so  often  sat  with  the 
children,  and  where  on  his  last  night  in  Thau  Pan 
he  had  seen  Leng  Tso  for  the  last  time.  It  was 
late;  no  one  was  under  the  tree  or  in  the  court. 


236 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-GIRL. 


and  Khiau  sat  alone  to  tliink  and  mourn  over  his 
losses.  He  could  not  blame  himself  that  Lens 
Tso  had  been  sold,  for  he  had  done  all  in  his  ])ower 
that  he  might  set  her  free.  Yet  the  loneliness  that 
came  over  him,  the  feeling  of  desolation,  and  the 
thought  that  Leng  Tso  was  lost  to  him  for  ever, 
took  from  life  its  last  charm.  Khiau  wished  him- 
.self  dead.  He  did  not  care  what  happened  to 
him.  He  felt  reckless  and  ready  for  anything. 
He  hated,  he  cursed  Hou  as  the  one  who  had 
robbed  him,  and  was  almost  ready  to  kill  the  man. 
Then  he  thought  that  Hou  only  did  what  many 
others  would  have  done — did  what  the  customs 
and  the  cruel  laws  of  China  permitted.  From 
hating  Hou,  he  turned  to  hating  those  customs. 
Most  bitterly  did  he  curse  the  law  that  allowed 
woman  to  be  sold  as  a slave — that  made  her  little 
better  than  the  cattle  of  the  fields.  He  could  not 
help  contrasting  the  customs  of  the  Chinese  with 
those  of  foreigners  whom  he  had  seen,  and  he  re- 
solved that  some  day  he  would  try  to  bring  about 
a change  in  his  own  country. 

Late  in  the  evening  Lim  found  him  yet  sitting 
under  the  old  tree,  and  invited  him  to  come  into 
the  house  to  sleep.  The  next  morning  early,  with- 
out stop])ing  to  see  any  of  his  old  friends,  after 
bidding  Lim  and  his  family  farewell,  Khian  start- 
ed in  search  of  his  mother.  In  the  afternoon  of 
the  same  day  he  reached  their  village,  and  found 
his  relatives. 


KlIIAU  RETURNS  TO  THAU  PAU.  237 


They  were  living  in  a wretched  little  house,  and 
were  almost  starving.  Niau  worked  when  forced 
to  do  so  by  hunger,  but  thought  more  of  himself 
than  of  the  family.  All  were  glad  to  see  the  wan- 
derer, whom  they  had  supposed  to  be  dead.  Nor 
were  they  less  pleased  to  find  that  Khiau  brought 
with  him  a considerable  sum  of  money.  Khiau 
remained  with  them  for  a month  or  two  only ; he 
said  that  it  was  not  home  for  him  there.  After 
hiring  a better  house  for  his  mother,  and  giving 
her  the  gi’eater  part  of  his  money,  but  forbid- 
ding her  to  let  Niau  have  the  care  of  any  of  it,  he 
started  away  again — as  he  said,  not  knowing  where 
he  would  go. 

He  stopped  in  the  great  Foo  city  to  attend  to 
some  business  and  see  a friend  whom  he  had  met 
at  All  Lam.  That  friend  had  just  opened  a silk- 
store  in  the  city,  and,  knowing  that  Khiau  had 
some  money,  invited  him  to  become  his  partner. 
Caring  little  what  he  did,  Khiau  consented,  and 
was  soon  actively  engaged  in  trade. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE  HOME  IN  THE  FOO  CITY. 

ET  US  return  to  Sek  and  his  misfortunes. 


When  he  arrived  in  the  Foo  city  with  his 
family,  the  man  was  so  worn  out  with  his  journey 
and  sorrow  at  leaving  his  old  home  that  he  had 
hardly  strength  to  look  for  a house  to  which  to 
take  his  family.  To  add  to  his  trouble,  Sek  So 
was  constantly  upbraiding  him  for  her  own  change 
of  fortune.  Sek  could  say  nothing  in  reply;  he 
knew  that  he  was  to  blame;  yet  her  misfortunes 
gave  him  far  less  trouble  than  did  the  thought  of 
Leng  Tso’s  sorrow  and  the  poverty  and  disgrace 
he  was  bringing  on  his  child. 

By  the  aid  of  Leng  Tso  a house  was  hired,  and 
became  the  home  of  the  little  family.  Sek,  made 
indolent  and  weak  by  the  use  of  opium,  had  nei- 
ther the  heart  nor  the  strength  to  try  any  business. 
Leng  Tso  ui’ged  him  to  give  up  the  use  of  opium ; 
she  tried  to  prevent  his  smoking  when  the  hour 
came  for  taking  it ; and  for  a while  Sek,  listening 
to  her  encouraging  words,  would  struggle  against 
the  craving,  but  the  restlessness  and  the  gnawings 


THE  HOME  HSf  THE  FOO  CITY. 


239 


of  the  appetite  for  opium,  and  the  intense  pains  he 
suffered,  were  more  than  Leng  Tso  could  see  him 
endure.  Each  day  she  listened  to  his  pleadings 
and  prepared  the  opium  for  him.  After  the  effects 
of  the  drug  were  gone  (they  passed  away  in  a few 
hours),  she  would  try  to  persuade  him  to  give  up 
its  use.  Each  time  the  poor  man  resoh’ed  that 
he  would  fight  the  giant.  Lessening  the  amount 
would  not  do ; for,  unless  he  had  the  usual  quan- 
tity, the  craving,  restlessness  and  pain  did  not  en- 
tirely pass  away.  She  told  him  that  he  must  give 
up  entirely,  and  at  once,  if  he  would  be  a mau 
again.  At  last  he  resolved  to  make  the  effort. 
But,  knowing  that  he  was  unable  to  resist  of  him- 
self, he  told  her  to  lock  him  in  a room  alone,  and 
there  he  would  fight  and  conquer  or  die.  Leng  Tso 
obeyed,  and  Sek  was  locked  in.  When  the  time 
came  for  his  taking  the  opium  he  struggled  with 
the  appetite,  determined  that  he  would  not  yield. 
But  as  hour  after  hour  passed  by,  and  he  felt  the 
craving  increasing  and  the  pains  becoming  more 
intense,  he  begged  Leng  Tso  to  unlock  the  door 
and  give  him  the  opium.  She  listened,  but  pre- 
tended not  to  hear;  louder  he  knocked,  more  pit- 
eous were  his  ajipeals,  yet  she  refused  to  heed  them. 
After  pleading  a long  time,  now  most  tenderly  and 
again  with  hard  threats,  gradually  Sek’s  voice  grew 
weaker,  his  pleadings  less  earnest,  until  all  was 
silent  in  the  room. 

For  a moment  Leng  Tso  thought,  “ Perhaps  he 


240 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIBL. 


is  dead,”  and  she  hastened  to  open  the  door.  But 
he  was  asleep,  sleeping  the  troubled  and  unresting 
sleep  that  the  unsatisfied  craving  fur  opium  brings. 
After  a while  he  awoke,  and  pleaded  again  most 
piteously  for  opium — only  a little. 

“No,”  said  she;  “you  began  to  conquer;  you 
wished  me  to  help  you.  I will  do  it  now;  you  can 
have  no  opium.” 

It  was  a long,  hard  struggle.  Sek  almost  died 
in  the  effort  to  conquer,  and  had  it  not  been  for  the 
encouragement  that  Leng  Tso  gave,  with  her  con- 
stant care,  he  could  not  have  lived.  He  seemed  to 
have  conquered ; though  weak  and  worn  and  wasted 
to  a skeleton,  the  man  in  Sek  yet  lived.  Leng  Tso 
had  saved  him. 

But  where  was  the  wife  of  the  opium-smoker 
during  this  time?  Now  brooding  over  her  misfor- 
tunes, and  now  gossiping  in  the  houses  of  new-made 
acquaintances,  she  gave  little  heed  to  her  husband 
or  to  Leng  Tso.  She  gave  little  thought  to  her 
family,  save  to  the  child,  so  long  as  the  “second 
wife  ” took  care  of  the  household  and  cared  for  her 
wants.  Sek  So  had  ceased  to  be  jealous,  or  even 
to  give  her  husband  more  than  a passing  thought. 
Since  he  had  become  the  worn-out,  broken-down 
opium-smoker,  she  felt  sure  that  he  could  not  live 
long.  Why  should  she  care  for  a man  who,  to 
gratify  his  own  passion,  had  brought  misfortune 
upon  herself,  disgrace  upon  his  family,  and  was 
leaving  them  in  poverty,  as  he  was  hastening  him- 


THE  HOME  IN  THE  FOO  CITY. 


241 


self  down  to  the  grave?  Besides,  thinking  that, 
as  slie  would  soon  be  a widow  and  would  need 
Leng  Tso’s  care  and  service,  she  treated  her  more 
kindly. 

Sek  gradually  gained  strength,  and  life  held  out 
its  attractions  to  him  again.  His  ambition  was 
aroused,  and  he  determined  to  gain  all  that  he  had 
lost.  He  told  Leng  Tso  that  she  had  sav'ed  him, 
and  the  new  man  looked  upon  his  second  wife 
almost  as  though  she  were  his  ecpial.  If  he  had 
been  kind  to  her  before,  he  was  now  doubly  so. 
While  he  would  not  have  admitted  that  a woman 
could  be  better  than  a man — no  Chinamen  believe 
women  to  be  equal  to  men ; but  then  they  are  heathen 
— yet  Sek  treated  Leng  Tso  as  though  slie  were 
really  better  than  himself.  She  was  almost  happy 
to  see  that  Sek  had  become  a man  again  ; yet  there 
was  ever  in  her  heart  that  one  longing  love  for  the 
lost  Khiau.  To  her  Sek  was  like  a kind,  true  friend, 
and  as  a friend  she  loved  him. 

With  the  return  of  her  husband’s  strength  and 
manhood  came  back  the  jealousy  of  Sek  So,  as  she 
saw  that  the  second  wife  was  more  favored  and 
loved  than  herself.  She  little  thought  that  her 
husband  would  have  been  unworthy  the  name  of 
man  if  he  could  have  preferred  his  first  wife.  A 
go.ssip,  a scold,  fretful,  cruel,  jealous,  there  was 
nothing  in  Sek  So  to  love.  It  is  not  strange  that 
her  husband  treated  her  with  indifference,  and 
often  with  contempt.  Though  there  was  nothiiig 

1C 


242 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


in  her  to  love,  yet  she  was  well  able  to  arouse 
hate,  to  cause  misery  and  to  make  the  lives  of  others 
wretched.  Sometimes  one  is  tempted  to  think  that 
a demon  has  great  control  in  this  world,  and,  fail- 
ing himself  to  make  mortals  miserable,  he  sends 
some  of  his  children  to  earth,  who  succeed  where 
their  father  failed. 

Sek  .soon  found  business,  and  with  his  excellent 
talent  speedily  added  to  what  was  left  of  his  for- 
tune. But  the  constant  fretting  and  scolding  of 
his  wife  made  his  home  wretched  to  him.  She 
told  others  of  his  former  habits  and  his  loss  of 
property,  gradually  creating  an  impression  that 
Sek  was  not  a safe  man  to  deal  with.  People  be- 
came suspicious  of  him ; his  business  lessened,  and 
failure  seemed  near. 

Sek  was  distressed.  He  saw  that  his  wife  would 
ruin  him  in  any  place  where  he  was  not  thoroughly 
known.  Once  he  determined  to  be  divorced  from 
her,  for,  by  Chinese  law,  scolding  and  gossiping  are 
sufficient  reasons  for  divorce.  Leng  Tso,  however, 
persuaded  him  to  endure  the  scolding  and  fretting  of 
his  wife,  and  not  to  notice  them.  Driven  from  home 
by  the  tongue  of  his  wife,  Sek  found  his  way  to  the 
gambling-shops.  Soon  he  acquired  the  passion  for 
gambling  so  common  to  the  Chinese.  Not  only  did 
he  spend  much  of  his  time  there;  he  lost  money,  too. 

One  day,  after  meeting  with  a considerable  loss, 
Sek  was  greatly  troubled,  and  was  persuaded  to 
try  the  opium-pipe  with  some  of  his  companions, 


THE  HOME  IN  THE  FOO  CITY. 


243 


that  in  the  stupor  of  opium  he  might  forget  his 
misfortunes.  More  desponding  still  after  he  had 
recovered  from  the  elfects  of  the  opium,  and  dis- 
tressed at  the  loss  of  so  much  money,  he  determined 
to  try  again,  hoping  that  as  he  had  lost,  so  he  would 
win  back,  his  money.  Sek  was  a good  business- 
man, but  a poor  gambler.  In  trying  to  recover 
what  he  had  already  lost,  he  lost  still  more.  Then 
he  determined  not  to  gamble  again  at  all,  and  hur- 
ried away.  But  he  could  not  overcome  the  fascina- 
tion, nor  could  he  long  stay  away  from  the  gam- 
bling-place. Others  won — his  turn  would  soon 
come  too ; and  he  tried  again.  He  won.  Led  on 
by  hope  of  gaining  more,  he  staked  larger  sums, 
sometimes  gaining,  sometimes  losing,  but  in  the  end 
having  less  money  than  he  had  at  the  beginning. 
Thus  Sek  neglected  his  business,  became  again  an 
opium-smoker,  and,  besides  that,  a regular  gambler. 
Day  after  day  he  was  in  the  gambling-house,  steadily 
losing  money.  But  the  infatuation  was  upon  him ; 
he  could  not  stop  if  he  would.  The  time  came  when 
he  staked  the  last  dollar,  and  lost.  Wild  with  ex- 
citement, not  knowing  what  he  did,  he  offered  to  sell 
his  wife  for  money  with  which  to  gamble. 

“But,”  said  one,  “yon  cannot  sell  her  unless  she 
is  willing,  and  she  will  not  be.” 

Sek,  in  desperation,  then  offered  to  sell  his  second 
wife.  One  of  the  men  present  agreed  to  buy. 
The  bargain  was  made,  the  agreement  written,  the 
money  paid,  the  agreement  signed,  and  Leng  Tso 


244 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


was  the  proj)erty  of  anotlier,  with  the  unclei’stand- 
ing  that  as  soon  as  Sek  won  the  money  he  was  to 
buy  back  liis  second  wife  at  tlie  price  paid. 

Not  sto[)ping  to  think  what  he  luid  done,  Sek 
gambled  again,  and  lost  all  the  money.  When  his 
last  dollar  was  gone  he  began  to  realize  what  he 
had  done.  His  agony  was  terrible.  He  left  the 
gamblei’s  and  hastened  to  his  home  with  a mad 
desi)eration.  On  the  way  he  bought  some  opium 
of  the  man  from  whom  he  had  often  bought  before, 
promising  to  pay  the  next  day.  When  he  reached 
home  he  said  nothing  about  his  troubles,  but  his 
wife  and  Leng  Tso  saw  that  something  was  agi- 
tating him.  It  was  not  unusual  for  Sek  to  lock 
himself  in  a room  alone,  and  they  thought  nothing 
of  his  doino;  so  now.  Leng  Tso  had  noticed  too 
of  late  that  he  was  often  agitated  and  seemingly  in 
great  trouble  ; but  neither  of  the  women  knew  that 
he  gambled,  or  did  they  know  that  he  had  again 
become  an  opium-smoker. 

Opium-smokers  may  be  saved;  the  craving  for 
the  drug  may  be  conquered  ; but  the  man  who 
finally  overcomes  the  habit  that  for  years  has  mas- 
tered him  must  be  a giant  in  will,  firm  as  a rock  in 
determined  resistance  to  the  continued  attacks  of 
his  old  master ; he  must  have  almost  superhuman 
strength  to  endure  the  gnawings  of  that  famine 
which  seems  to  be  wasting  his  vitals ; he  must  have 
a martyr’s  courage  to  bear  the  pain,  the  agony,  the 
torture,  of  that  worse  than  Spanish  inquisition  that 


THE  HOME  IN  THE  FOO  CITY. 


245 


■would  force  him  to  recant  or  rack  his  life-blood  out 
by  minute  drops.  With  each  fall  he  becomes  weaker ; 
every  succeeding  struggle,  if  the  victim  have  energy 
enough  to  attempt  to  rise,  is  shorter  and  with  less 
effoi’t.  Like  the  strong  man  who,  unable  to  swim, 
is  drowning,  he  gives  up  the  struggle,  and  before 
long  sinks  exhausted  into  that  dream  that  knows 
no  waking.  Or  it  may  be,  made  desperate  as  he 
sees  himself  in  the  hands  of  the  tyrant  who  is  rob- 
bing him  of  all  and  is  fastening  him  in  hopeless 
slavery,  the  poor  wretch  with  his  own  hands  loosens 
the  cords  of  life  and  dies.  To  save  himself  a more 
lingering  death,  he  dies  a suicide. 

Conquered  once,  the  passion  for  opium  is  not 
conquered  for  ever.  Like  the  thirst  for  strong  drink, 
it  may  come  back  again.  It  is  a monster  that  has 
merely  been  lured  to  slumber,  or  at  best  been 
chained.  A temptation  may  awaken  and  accident 
may  break  the  fetters  and  set  the  monster  free. 

Four  curses  are  breathing  their  withering  breath 
on  China.  They  are  Tartar  rule,  the  degradation 
of  woman,  superstition  and  opium.  If  the  former 
are  more  widespread,  the  latter  is  more  terribly 
fatal.  But  this  last  curse  is  a foreign  one,  and 
some  day  it  may  seek  its  home.  Woe  be  to  Great 
Britain  if  God’s  mercy  do  not  shield  her  from  the 
punishment  due  for  this  accursed  traffic  which  she 
has  forced  upon  China!  English  opium  has  ruined 
far  more  souls  in  China  than  English  missionaries 
have  been  instrumental  in  saving  there. 


246 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-GIRL. 


But  to  return  to  Sek.  The  next  morning  the 
door  of  his  room  was  yet  locked,  and  all  was  silent 
within.  The  two  women  became  alarmed.  After 
waiting  a long  time  tliey  burst  open  the  door,  and 
saw  him  lying  on  the  floor  asleep.  Leng  Tso  tried 
to  wake  him,  but  he  slept  too  soundly.  Slept?  , 
Yes,  but  that  sleep  which  has  no  dreams.  Sek  had 
swallowed  the  opium  to  end  his  trouble  in  lasting 
forgetfulness.  He  was  dead — died  a suicide. 

Ban,  the  man  who  had  bought  Leng  Tso,  was 
yet  young  and  unmarried.  He  kept  a shop  in  the 
city,  and  was  a man  of  some  respectability  and 
wealth ; but,  like  most  Chinamen,  he  lov'ed  to 
gamble.  When  the  excitement  of  the  game  had 
passed  by  and  he  found  himself  the  owner  of  a 
woman,  he  hardly  knew  what  to  do  with  her.  To 
the  bantering  of  his  companions  he  could  say 
nothing.  As  soon  as  he  could  leave  the  gambling- 
den  he  took  the  bill  of  sale  and  hastened  home. 
His  father  was  dead,  and  he  lived  with  his  mother. 
To  her  he  showed  the  bill  of  sale,  and,  without 
telling  her  in  what  way  or  where  he  had  made  the 
purchase,  said  that  he  had  done  it  to  help  a friend 
in  distress,  and,  since  the  friend  was  unable  to  buy 
back  the  woman,  she  was  his  own ; but  what  to  do 
with  her  he  did  not  know. 

“ My  son,”  said  his  mother,  ‘‘  I am  growing  old  ; 
you  need  a wife.  If  this  woman  is  young  and 
good,  since  she  is  yours,  why  not  make  her  your 
own  wife?  If  the  man  cannot  buy  her  back  again. 


THE  HOME  IN  THE  FOO  CITY. 


247 


you  must  keep  her  or  sell  her  to  some  one  else. 
Aud  since  no  other  arrangement  has  been  made 
for  a wife  for  you,  kee}}  this  one.” 

“ I do  not  want  a wife,”  said  Ban ; “ wives  are 
troublesome.  My  older  brother’s  children  will 
keep  my  father’s  name  alive;  and  I wish  to  live 
for  my  own  comfort.” 

“But  who  vdll  take  care  of  me  when  I am  old?” 
said  the  mother.  “ I do  not  wish  to  live  with 
Chiok,  and  have  hoped  that  you  would  take  a 
wife.” 

The  matter  was  finally  settled  that  if  Lcng  Tso 
suited  Ban  he  would  make  her  his  wife. 

Having  bought,  he  must  see  about  his  pi’operty. 
Taking  the  bill  of  sale,  he  went  to  the  house  of 
Sek,  but  was  startled  to  find  that  Sek  was  dead. 
Hearing  the  mourning  of  the  women,  he  felt  that 
it  would  not  do  to  claim  his  purchase  then ; but 
when  he  saw  Leng  Tso,  he  was  greatly  pleased 
with  her  and  he  decided  at  once  that  she  should 
be  his  wife,  even  though  she  were  a large-footed 
woman. 

He  waited  until  after  the  funeral,  and  then  sent 
a woman  to  inform  Leng  Tso  that  Sek  had  sold 
her  the  day  before  he  died  to  a man  who  had 
bought  her  for  his  own  wife.  Sek  So,  who  had 
expected  to  have  Leng  Tso  for  a servant,  refused 
to  give  her  up.  She  denied  that  Sek  had  sold  the 
woman ; and  when  told  of  the  agreement,  she  said 
that  it  was  forged.  The  woman  hastened  back  to 


248 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


Bail  and  told  him  that  he  would  have  to  use  force 
to  get  his  wife. 

Taking  a mandarin  (a  Chinese  officer)  and  some 
of  the  witnesses  of  the  sale,  Ban  hastened  to  the 
house  of  Sek,  and,  showing  the  agreement,  which 
the  witnesses  proved  to  be  true  and  the  sale  a 
regular  and  fair  one,  he  demanded  Leng  Tso. 
Being  only  a woman,  Sek  So  could  do  nothing 
but  submit  in  face  of  all  this  proof.  Leng  Tso 
cared  very  little  to  remain  with  her  mistress — 
indeed,  cared  little  what  became  of  herself  at  all. 
She  had  long  since  learned  that  women,  and  espe- 
cially slaves  and  second  wives,  had  no  rights  iu 
China.  Without  offering  any  objection,  she  was 
ready  to  go  at  once.  But  the  child?  It  was  her 
child,  and  for  it  the  mother’s  heart  yearned, 
flight  she  take  that? 

“No,”  said  Sek  So;  “it  is  my  child,  it  is  my 
husband’s  child.  You  have  nothing  to  do  with 
it.  You  were  not  his  wife;  you  were  only  a 
second  wife.” 

Leng  Tso  was  forced  to  leave  her  boy  for  ever. 

We  have  nothing  further  to  say  about  Sek  So, 
exce^^t  to  add  that  when  she  found  her  husband 
had  left  her  without  any  property,  she  took  his 
child  and  went  to  her  father’s  house  to  live. 

Leng  Tso  was  taken  to  her  new  home  and  soon 
installed  there  as  the  wife  of  Ban,  but  not  the 
mistress  of  his  household.  She  was  no  longer 
a slave,  though  bought  with  money.  She  had 


THE  HOME  IN  THE  EDO  CITY. 


249 


become  a full  wife,  ami  without  her  own  consent 
could  never  be  sold  again.  Yet  a slavery  as  try- 
ing as  any  she  had  had  was  in  store  for  her  at  the 
hand  of  her  mother-in-law.  Her  husband  was 
usually  kind  to  his  wife,  though  he  treated  her  as 
an  inferior.  He  cared  little  for  her,  and  she  less 
for  him ; but  she  was  his  wife,  and  was  obliged 
to  obey  him  and  his  mother.  The  mother  saw  to 
it  that  Leng  Tso  did  the  Avork  of  the  household, 
and  spent  much  of  her  time  in  ordering  Leng  Tso 
or  scoldino;  her  for  disobedience  and  neg-lect.  Some- 
times  she  did  more  than  scold : she  beat  her  daugh- 
ter-in-law and  treated  her  as  cruelly  as  though  she 
were  yet  a slave.  To  her  son  she  made  frequent 
complaints  of  the  carelessness  and  the  worthless- 
ness of  his  wife.  Leng  Tso  tried  to  be  kind  and 
obedient  to  her  husband’s  mother,  and  hardly  ever 
gave  any  harsh  word  in  return  ; nor  did  she  com- 
plain at  all  to  Ban  of  the  treatment  received.  He 
could  not  help  noticing  his  wife’s  patience,  and  was 
not  ready  to  believe  all  that  was  said  of  her  by  his 
mother.  But,  as  she  was  his  mother.  Ban  Avas 
bound,  according  to  the  Chinese  rule,  to  respect 
and  believe  his  mother  rather  than  his  Avife. 

Years  A\ent  by,  and  a son  AAas  born.  Had  her 
mother-in-law  been  more  kind,  Lengr  Tso  might 
have  been  almost  hajipy,  if  a Avoman  whose  heart 
is  gone  can  be  happy.  Her  child  Avas  all  that  she 
had.  She  almost  lived  in  her  boy.  She  felt  that 
he  AA'as  hers ; no  one  but  death  could  take  him 


250 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE- GIRL. 


away.  As  the  little  fellow  grew  up  he  returned 
the  love  that  his  mother  lavished  upon  him,  and 
brightened  her  life  by  his  winning  ways.  When 
he  saw  his  grandmother  beat  her  he  would  run  to 
his  mother,  and,  throwing  his  arms  about  Leng 
Tso,  say, 

“ T”ou  shall  not  strike  my  mother.  She  is  good.” 

The  old  woman  was  almost  forced  to  treat  Leng 
Tso  kindly  to  win  the  good-will  of  the  child ; 
unless  she  did,  he  would  not  notice  his  grand- 
mother. 

Once,  when  Ban  was  absent  for  some  time  on 
business,  there  came  to  his  home  a little  daughter. 
Leng  Tso’s  heart  was  full  of  joy  now.  But  oue 
day  she  was  startled  as  she  overheard  the  grand- 
mother tell  the  little  boy,  when  he  was  fondling 
the  baby-sister,  that  it  was  bad  and  must  be  killed. 

“ Xo,  no,  not  killed  !”  cried  the  little  fellow. 

Leng  Tso  said  nothing,  but  waited  anxiously  for 
the  return  of  Ban.  Soon  after  he  came  back,  as 
his  mother  was  talking  to  him  outside  of  the 
house,  Leng  Tso  heard  her  urge  him  to  kill  the 
little  daughter.  At  firet  he  seemed  unwilling, 
but  finally  consented.  The  mother’s  heart  almost 
stopped  as  she  heard  him  say, 

“ Yes,  let  it  be  killed.” 

When  he  came  into  the  house  his  wife  pleaded 
with  him  for  the  life  of  her  little  one. 

“ It  is  our  only  gii’l,”  said  she ; “ we  are  not  poor 
and  can  easily  atford  to  let  it  live;  but  if  you 


THE  HOME  IN  THE  FOO  CITY. 


251 


think  it  costs  too  much  to  support  it,  I will  work 
hard  and  do  extra  work  to  earn  money  to  keep  my 
child.  It  is  our  own  flesh  and  blood;  can  we  see 
it  taken  away  to  be  killed  ?” 

The  husband  listened  to  her,  and  consented  that 
the  little  one  should  live.  Some  days  after,  she 
heard  his  mother  upbraid  him  for  yielding  to  a 
woman,  and  that  woman  no  one  but  his  wife, 
bought  with  his  own  money,  and  she  only  a large- 
footed woman  who  was  once  a slave,  and  not  a 
woman  of  good  family.  The  old  woman  said  that 
he  had  disgraced  himself. 

Ban  was  firm.  Large-footed  or  not,  he  said,  his 
wife  was  good ; she  was  kind  and  faithful  to  him 
and  to  his  honored  mother,  and  while  he  honored 
his  mother  far  more  than  he  did  his  wife,  yet  the 
learned  men  of  the  kingdom  said  it  was  wrong  to 
kill  the  female  children  ; that  the  gods  were  angry 
with  the  people  for  taking  the  lives  of  these  little 
ones.  He  said  he  must  choose,  not  between  his 
mother  and  his  wife,  but  between  his  mother  and 
all  the  great  men  of  the  empire. 

In  time  another  son  was  born,  and  then  another 
daughter.  The  mother’s  heart  clung  as  fondly  to 
the  last  as  to  the  other  of  her  children.  But  the 
mother-in-law  determined  that  the  new-comer  must 
die.  In  vain  were  Leng  Tso’s  pleadings.  The 
old  woman  insisted  that  the  family  was  becoming 
too  large;  that  they  could  not  bring  up  so  many 
daughters ; that  they  could  not  support  them ; and 


252 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-GIRL. 


tliat  the  child  must  be  killed.  She  urged  upon  her 
son  that  a large  family  would  bring  him  to  poverty 
and  ruin.  He  refused  to  have  the  child  killed, 
but  consented  that  it  should  be  given  away.  To 
this  Leng  Tso  was  obliged  to  yield,  and  the  little 
one  was  taken  from  the  mother  to  become  the 
child  of  a stranger. 

As  Leng  Tso  was  sitting  in  the  door  one  day, 
there  passed  by  a man  who,  as  he  saw  her  face, 
stopped  and  looked,  then  passed  on,  but,  turning 
back  again,  seemed  to  be  fixed  to  the  spot.  After 
looking  her  full  in  the  face  for  several  moments 
he  stepped  forward  toward  her,  saying  in  a half- 
audible  voice, 

“ Is  it  Leng  Tso  ? Here  ? Hoav  ?” 

As  Tjeng  Tso  saw  the  stranger  watching  her  she 
wondered  what  he  meant.  Thinking  it  might  be 
a crazy  man,  or  possibly  some  one  worse,  she  was 
just  about  stepping  back  and  shutting  the  door  as 
she  heard  her  name  called.  A flood  of  memories 
came  over  the  woman ; the  careworn  look  on  the 
face  of  the  man,  the  years  and  sorrow  there,  did 
not  entirely  hide  the  stranger  from  her.  That 
voice  revealed  the  secret.  It  was  Khiau ! Her 
first  impulse  was  to  throw  herself  at  his  feet;  but 
at  once  the  thought  came,  that  would  bring  shame, 
disgrace,  and  possibly  death,  to  her.  A married 
woman  in  China,  unless  she  is  old,  is  scarcely  per- 
mitted to  speak  to  any  man  who  is  not  a near 
relative,  much  less  show  any  feeling  of  affection 


THE  HOME  IN  THE  FOO  CITY. 


253 


toward  a stranger.  The  husband  who  allows  it  is 
even  liable  to  punishment  by  law  for  neglecting  to 
punish  his  wife’s  unfaithfulness.  If,  in  his  angei’, 
he  should  kill  her,  probably  no  law  would  punish 
him.  People  were  coming  and  going  in  the  street, 
others  were  sitting  in  their  doorways,  and  what- 
ever was  done  would  at  once  be  noticed  and  re- 
ported to  Ban. 

“ It  is  Khiau,  it  is  Khiau !”  Leng  Tso  said  to 
herself.  “ He  is  not  dead,  but  oh  he  is  dead  to  me !” 

Khiau  heard  the  words,  except  the  last  sentence, 
which  was  spoken  softly,  and  knowing  how  danger- 
ous to  her,  as  well  as  to  himself,  it  would  be  if  he 
should  stop  to  talk  to  her,  or  even  stop  at  all,  gave 
one  long  lingering  look,  and  then  hurried  on. 

After  seeing  Khiau  all  the  old  longing  that  she 
had  supposed  was  dead  sprang  uj)  again  in  the 
heart  of  Lens  Tso.  As  durius  an  intense  drought 
the  leaves  of  a vine  wither  and  die,  but  after  a re- 
freshing rain  it  sends  out  new  shoots  and  branches, 
so,  after  that  long  time  of  dearth,  the  presence  of 
Khiau  brought  forth  to  life  and  vigor  all  the  fond 
affections  of  her  girlhood.  To  turn  her  thoughts 
from  him  as  much  as  possible  Leng  Tso  gave  her- 
self more  entirely  to  her  family  ; yet  it  was  not  in 
her  power  to  root  out  that  deep  love  for  Khiau. 
She  might  hide  it  from  others,  but  she  could  not 
kill  the  old  longing  to  see  Khiau — to  be  with  him 
again. 

Suddenly  the  mother’s  thoughts  were  turned  en- 


254  THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIBL. 

tirely  in  another  direction  ; her  little  daughter  be- 
came ill.  Gradually  the  disease  wasted  the  child. 
Doctoi-s  were  called,  medicines  were  tried,  but  the 
child  grew  worse.  All  were  anxious  for  her ; even 
the  grandmother  had  learned  to  love  the  little  one  ; 
and  many  were  the  otferings  in  the  idol-temples  and 
many  the  prayers  made  for  the  recovery  of  the 
child,  but  all  in  vain.  Ban,  like  most  Chinamen, 
seemed  to  care  little  for  his  daughter,  but  when 
he  saw  that  she  was  likely  to  die,  he  too  became 
anxious. 

“ I told  her,”  said  he  to  his  mother  of  Leng  Tso, 

“ that  she  might  kee[)  the  child,  and  if  anything 
can  save  its  life  I do  not  mean  that  even  death  shall 
take  it  away.” 

He  called  in  two  jn-iests  and  bade  them  try  to 
drive  the  evil  out  of  the  child.  These  men  chanted 
a form  of  words  to  influence  the  evil  spirit  that  was 
supposed  to  be  in  it,  and  then  with  all  their  might 
rang  a bell  and  clanged  cymbals  that  they  had 
brought,  hoping  thus  to  frighten  the  evil  spirit 
away.  Kext  they  prepared  a feast,  pretending  that 
in  this  way  a god  would  be  invited  to  the  house, 
and  then  his  spirit  would  enter  the  child  and  drive 
the  evil  one  out.  After  performing  some  other 
ceremonies  and  giving  the  spirit  of  the  god  time 
to  eat  the  spirit  of  the  food,  the  priests  themselves 
ate  its  matter.  Their  object  was  to  get  a good  din- 
ner besides  the  presents  given  them.  But  the  priests 
did  the  child  no  more  good  than  did  the  doctors  and 


THE  HOME  IN  THE  FOO  CITY. 


255 


their  medicine.  The  mother’s  constant  watching 
and  the  grandmother’s  eare  were  also  in  vain  : the 
child  died. 

Leng  Tso’s  grief  was  great  as  she  bent  over  her 
little  dead  daughter,  nor  was  the  father  without 
feeling.  Little  Ko  Chin,  the  youngest  boy,  when 
he  saw  his  mother  weeping  and  moaning  over  her 
child,  asked, 

“ Why  do  you  weep,  mother  ? She  sleeps  now  ; 
she  has  no  more  pain  ; she  does  not  cry.  Let  her 
rest;  don’t  wake  her.  She  will  be  well  soon.” 

“ Xo,  your  little  sister  will  never  again  be  well,” 
said  Leng  Tso.  “ She  has  gone  off  into  the  dark- 
ness, and  has  no  one  to  care  for  her.” 

“ Cannot  grandmother  go  and  take  care  of  her?” 
said  the  little  fellow.  “ We  do  not  need  her,  and 
she  scolds  our  mother  ; that  makes  our  hearts  sad  ” 

Either  the  words  of  the  little  boy  or  the  super- 
stition of  the  old  woman  made  her  find  fault  with 
Leng  Tso,  and  even  speak  harshly  to  her,  for  griev- 
ing over  the  death  of  the  child. 

“ You  were  foolish,”  said  she,  “ to  wish  to  have 
the  child  live  when  it  was  born.  It  was  the  spirit 
of  an  enemy  that  entered  it  then,  and  now  you  see 
what  revenge  that  enemy  has  taken  upon  us.  Had 
my  way  been  followed  we  would  have  been  saved 
all  of  this  trouble  and  expense,  and  have  prevented 
an  enemy’s  rejoicing  over  us.  You  are  ignorant 
and  always  unwise.” 

“ No,  she  is  not,”  said  Lin,  the  oldest  boy.  “ Our 


256 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIEL. 


mother  is  good ; she  never  scolds  as  our  grand- 
mother docs.” 

“ Silence,  my  son  !”  said  his  father ; “ you  must 
honor  your  grandmother  even  more  than  your 
mother,  for  she  is  old.” 

“ But,  father,”  replied  the  boy,  “ mother  loves  us 
more.  She  never  beats  us ; she  is  always  kind  to 
us.” 

“ Yes,”  said  the  old  woman,  “ and  that  is  the 
reason  why  you  do  not  treat  the  aged  with  more 
respect — because  your  mother  does  not  teach  you 
better.  The  gods  have  taken  one  away  in  anger, 
and  soon  they  will  take  the  others.  We  must  suf- 
fer because  the  mother  is  not  good.” 

“ She  is  good,”  replied  Ko  Chin — “ very  good.” 
“Grandmother,”  said  Lin,  “you  said  that  an 
enemy  had  taken  away  our  little  sister;  now  you 
say  the  gods  have.  Are  the  gods  our  enemies?” 
“ Be  still,  child !”  said  the  old  woman,  angry 
with  him,  and  angry  with  all;  “you  do  not  know 
what  you  say.  If  you  had  been  taught  better,  you 
would  know  that  it  is  not  proper  for  children  to  ask 
questions  of  old  people.”  Then,  turning  to  her  son, 
she  said,  “ This  body  must  not  be  buried  in  a grave. 
Let  some  men  throw  it  into  a ditch  and  cover  it 
there.” 

Leng  Tso  remembered  how  Hou  had  buried  his 
child,  and  half  believed  that  what  was  said  about 
the  enemy  killing  the  little  one  was  true;  yet  the 
mother’s  heart  could  not  bear  the  thought  of 


THE  HOME  IN  THE  FOO  CITY.  . ^57 

burying  her  little  daughter  as  though  she  were 
a dog. 

The  grandmother’s  command  was  obeyed ; and, 
without  coffin  and  with  no  funeral,  the  little  body 
was  carried  out  of  the  city,  thrown  into  a ditch  and 
there  covered. 

Some  time  after  the  death  of  this  little  girl  busi- 
ness called  Ban  away  for  a few  days.  His  oldest 
son  begged  to  be  taken  with  him,  and  to  the  boy’s 
great  delight  his  father  said  he  might  go.  On  their 
way  home  they  took  a rather  lonely  road  away  from 
any  village,  and  in  a place  where  men  could  hide 
they  were  suddenly  set  upon  by  a band  of  robbers. 
Ban  had  with  him  two  men  to  carry  a valuable 
package,  in  which  quite  a large  sum  of  money  was 
hidden.  These  two  men  had  probably  somewhere 
on  their  journey  told  the  robbers  of  the  money  and 
had  agreed  to  take  the  lonely  way  so  that  the  rob- 
bers might  get  it,  on  the  condition  that  they  should 
have  a share.  As  the  men  sprang  upon  them  the 
two  carriers  dropped  their  load  and  ran  away,  leav- 
ing Ban  and  Lin  alone.  There  was  a number  of 
robbers,  and  Ban  saw  that  it  would  be  useless  to 
fight  for  his  property  ; he  would  gladly  have  given 
it  up  to  save  himself  and  his  boy.  He  regretted 
now  that  he  had  listened  to  the  two  men  and  taken 
this  lonely  road,  and  was  more  sorry  still  that  he 
had  at  all  taken  this  way  of  bringing  his  money 
home. 

But  he  had  no  time  now  to  mourn.  He  caught 
n 


258 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


Lin’s  hand,  and,  bidding  the  boy  run  with  all  his 
might,  the  father  and  son  tried  to  escape.  While 
the  others  were  taking  care  of  the  money,  three  of 
the  robbers  started  after  Ban  and  his  boy.  Had 
the  father  been  alone  he  might  have  escaped,  but 
Lin  could  not  run  so  fast  as  his  father,  and  before 
going  far  the  robbers  overtook  them.  The  fright- 
ened boy  cried  loudly,  and  begged  the  men  not  to 
kill  him.  Ban,  scarcely  less  frightened,  tried  to 
quiet  his  son,  and,  partly  for  the  men  to  hear,  said 
that  these  were  not  bad  men,  and  that  they  would 
soon  let  them  go  again.  He  then  pleaded  with  the 
men  to  let  him  and  his  son  go,  promising  that  if 
they  did  they  might  keep  the  package  and  he  would 
not  tell  the  officers  about  them. 

“We  will  keep  the  money,  any  way,”  they  said, 
“ and  the  officers  will  not  be  able  to  find  it.  But 
we  do  not  mean  that  you  shall  tell  the  officers.  AYe 
will  keep  your  boy;  and  if  you  tell  the  mandarins, 
we  will  kill  him.  If  you  say  nothing  about  this, 
he  shall  be  spared.” 

In  vain  did  the  father  plead  for  his  son.  He 
offered  to  send  the  robbers  a large  sum  of  money 
as  soon  as  he  reached  his  home,  if  they  would  let 
him  and  Lin  go  back  to  the  city. 

“ No,”  said  the  men,  “ we  care  too  much  for  our 
heads.  If  we  let  you  go  in  that  M'ay,  you  will 
have  the  mandarins  after  us,  and  our  heads  will 
soon  be  off.  You  go  back  to  the  city,  say  nothing 
about  this,  and  your  son  will  be  safe.  But  as  soon 


THE  HOME  IN  THE  FOO  CITY. 


259 


as  you  go  to  the  mandarins  we  will  know  of  it, 
and  then  your  boy  must  die.” 

“ Xo,”  said  Ban ; “ I will  stay  with  my  son.” 

“ If  you  do,”  said  the  robbers,  “ it  will  be  as  a 
dead  man ; we  will  certainly  kill  you.  We  do 
not  want  you,  but  him  only.  Go  back,  and  live ; 
stay,  and  die.” 

Hard  as  it  was  to  leave  Lin  with  the  robbers. 
Ban  saw  that  it  was  the  only  thing  to  be  done.  If 
he  went  back  to  the  city,  he  might  in  some  way  get 
his  boy  again;  but  if  he  stayed,  it  was  quite  cer- 
tain that  he  would  be  killed  and  his  son  remain  a 
prisoner.  As  he  slowly  started  to  go  home  his 
heart  failed  him,  and  the  cry  of  Lin,  “ My  father, 
M ill  you  leave  me  alone  to  be  killed  ? Do  you  not 
love  your  boy  any  more?  Must  I die?”  rang  in 
his  ears  until  he  felt  tliat  he  must  go  back  again. 
He  turned,  but  saw  a robber  M'ith  a spear  coming 
behind  as  though  to  kill  him.  This  decided  Ban, 
and,  thinking  of  his  own  life,  he  ran,  and  dared  not 
turn  back. 

When  he  reached  home  his  wife  and  mother  saw 
that  something  fearful  had  happened,  and,  not  see- 
ing Lin,  they  supposed  he  was  dead.  By  question- 
ing they  drew  from  Ban  the  whole  storv.  His 
mother  called  him  a coward  for  deserting  his  OM*n 
flesh  and  blood. 

“You  are  not  worthy  to  have  children,”  she 
said ; “ it  is  no  M'onder  the  gods  take  them  aM'ay 
from  you.” 


260 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


Ko  Chiu  stopped  crying  for  a moment  over  the 
loss  of  his  brother,  and  asked, 

“Grandmother,  are  gods  robbers?” 

Leng  Tso  said  not  a word  when  she  learned  of 
the  loss  of  her  boy;  her  grief  was  too  deej)  for 
words.  Coming  so  soon  after  tlie  death  of  her  little 
girl,  she  wondered  if  it  were  not  true  tliat  the  gods 
were  angry  with  her.  She  determined  to  make 
some  great  offering,  and  to  spend  much  more  of 
her  time  in  worshiping  the  idols.  She  felt  tliat  she 
had  neglected  the  temple-worship  and  had  given 
herself  too  much  to  her  children,  and  therefore  was 
jiunished. 

Ban  did  not  dare  go  to  the  mandarins,  for  fear 
that  the  robbers  would  hear  of  it  and  kill  his  boy. 
lie  cared  far  less  for  his  money  than  he  did  for 
Liu;  whilst  he  would  do  almost  anything  to  have 
his  child  back  again,  he  would  do  nothing  to  en- 
danger Lin’s  life.  His  mother  told  him  to  have 
soldiers  go  at  once  after  the  robbers,  and  bring  back 
the  money  as  well  as  the  boy.  But  he  refused,  and 
forbade  her  to  say  anything  about  the  robbers.  If 
they  kept  still,  he  said,  the  men  might  send  Lin 
back  again;  while  doing  anything  to  rescue  him 
would  be  sure  to  sacrifice  the  boy. 

“What  will  people  say?”  cried  his  mother. 
“They  will  call  you  a coward  to  desert  your  child  ; 
and  you  deserve  the  name.  Yon  are  indeed  a great 
coward.” 

“ The  people  must  not  know  wliat  has  become  of 


THE  HOME  IN  THE  FOO  CITY. 


261 


him,”  answered  the  father.  “ Tell  them  that  he  is 
with  some  friends.” 

This  was  the  story  told  when  it  was  asked  where 
Ijin  was. 

The  robbers  belonged  to  a band  of  rebel  soldiers 
who  were  sometimes  fighting  against  the  govern- 
ment and  sometimes  robbing  the  people.  They 
formed  one  of  a number  of  bands  which  were  try- 
ing to  get  money  to  carry  on  the  rebellion  against 
the  Chinese  government. 

The  Tai  Ping  rebellion,  of  which  more  will  be 
told  farther  on,  is  not  the  only  rebellion  that  has 
been  known  of  late  years  in  China.  While  the 
Chinese  are  not  a fighting  people,  yet  the  cruel 
tyranny  of  their  Tartar  conquerors  and  rulers 
often  drives  them  to  madness  and  desperation.  It 
is  seldom  that  there  is  not  a rebellion,  smaller  or 
larger,  somewhere  in  the  great  empire;  sometimes 
two,  and  even  three  separate  ones  are  in  existence 
at  the  same  time.  These  rebellions  rarely  grow  to 
great  proportions,  as  the  people  speak  many  differ- 
ent dialects,  and  therefore  cannot  understand  each 
other,  and  as  the  government  has  its  spies  watch- 
ing all  over  the  country,  so  that  the  people  do  not 
know  whom  they  can  trust. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


THE  REBELS  CAPTURE  THE  CITY. 

OR  several  years  there  liad  come  to  the  Foo 


city,  at  different  times,  news  of  a rebellion 
going  on  in  the  southern  part  of  China.  It  was 
said  that  the  rebels  had  given  np  the  worship  of 
the  gods,  and  even  of  the  spirits  of  the  dead,  and 
instead  had  accepted  the  God  of  the  foreigners. 
As  yeare  went  by  reports  came  again  and  again  of 
great  battles  fought  and  victories  won  by  the  rebels. 
The  armies  of  the  Chinese  government  sent  to  cap- 
ture and  kill  the  insurgents  were  defeated.  Great 
numbers  of  people  flocked  to  their  camp  and  joined 
the  rebellion.  When  they  became  strong  enough, 
these  Tai  Pings,  as  tliey  were  called,  began  to  march 
northward,  capturing  villages  and  cities  as  they 
went.  Xo  army  sent  against  them  could  stop 
them.  The  farther  they  went,  the  greater  became 
their  numbers.  The  people  were  alarmed,  and 
hardly  dared  do  anything  to  hinder  them.  Many 
in  their  hearts  were  glad  that  the  rebellion  was  so 
successful.  They  did  not  care  about  the  religion 
of  the  rebels,  but  did  w’ish  to  have  other  rulers 
than  those  who  governed  China. 


262 


THE  REBELS  CAPTURE  THE  CITY.  263 


These  rulers,  called  Tartars  and  Mantchns  (or 
Manchoos),  are  not  Chinese.  Their  home  lay  north 
and  west  of  China.  l\Iore  than  two  hundred  yeai’s 
ago  they  conquered  the  people,  and  since  that  time 
have  lived  in  and  ruled  Cliina.  When  they  had 
conquered  the  country  they  forced  the  men  to  shave 
the  head,  allowing  only  the  hair  on  the  crown  to 
grow;  this  must  be  braided  in  a long  braid  or  cue. 
This  cue  means  that  the  man  who  wears  it  belongs 
to  the  Mantchu  rulers  who  have  conquered  him. 
Very  many  of  the  Chinese  hate  these  Tartars,  and 
if  they  dared  would  gladly  throw  off  their  rule, 
and  if  able  would  drive  their  conquerors  from  the 
country  or  kill  them  in  it.  The  Tai  Pings,  to  show 
that  they  refused  to  obey  the  Mantchu  rulers  any 
longer,  allowed  then*  hair  to  grow  long  all  over 
the  head,  and  for  that  reason  were  called  the  “ long- 
haired rebels.” 

When  these  Tai  Pings  marched  north  they  passed 
far  west  of  the  great  Foo  city ; but  a number  of 
years  afterward,  wheu  they  had  conquered  a large 
part  of  China,  armies  were  sent  out  in  different 
directions  to  capture  cities  and  to  conquer  the  whole 
nation.  One  army  was  sent  through  the  country 
near  Thau  Pan  to  bring  the  people  under  the  Tai 
Ping  rulers  and  to  capture  the  large  Foo  city,  and 
then  to  go  down  along  the  river,  conquering  every 
place,  until  the  city  of  Ha  Bun,  on  the  coast,  was 
reached.  This  they  were  expected  to  conquer  as 
their  last  victory. 


264 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE- GIRL. 


News  came  to  the  Foo  citv  that  this  army  was 
preparing  to  march,  and  that  when  it  came  it  would 
sweep  over  the  city  like  a broom,  driving  out  as 
dust  every  one  who  did  not  favor  the  Tai  Pings. 
Many  were  glad,  and  hoped  that  they  would  come 
soon.  Others  were  greatly  afraid,  for  they  knew 
that  it  meant  death  to  many,  and  might  bring  death 
to  themselves  and  destruction  to  the  city.  Still 
others  hated  the  rebels,  and  hoped  that  they  would 
be  destroyed  long  before  they  reached  the  city. 

A large  army  was  gathered  and  sent  out  to  meet 
the  rebels  and  drive  them  back  or  kill  them  in  bat- 
tle. As  the  array  went  from  the  city  its  officers 
boasted  of  what  they  were  about  to  do.  They 
would  capture  and  bring  every  rebel  back  and  let 
the  people  see  the  bad  men  die.  They  told  them 
not  to  fear;  no  Tai  Pings  should  ev’er  see  the  walls 
of  the  Foo  city  unless  as  prisoners.  All  the  impe- 
rial army  need  do  would  be  to  look  the  rebels  iu 
the  face,  and  the  long-haired  men  would  at  once 
run  for  their  lives.  A proclamation  by  the  chief 
ruler  of  the  city  was  published,  telling  the  people 
that  none  need  give  themselves  any  fear;  there 
were  enough  soldiers  in  the  city  to  keep  away  any 
enemies;  he  had  only  sent  out  a few  to  bring  in  a 
band  of  robbers.  This  was  meant  to  prevent  any 
who  might  think  this  the  time  to  rebel  against  the 
government  from  so  doing;  for  all  over  the  coun- 
try there  were  people,  and  many  too,  ready  to  join 
the  Tai  Pings. 


THE  REBELS  CAPTURE  THE  CITY.  265 


When  the  army  marched  out  with  its  flags  flying 
and  its  soldiers  armed  with  all  kinds  of  weapons, 
from  a musket  to  a pitchfork,  some  of  the  people 
boasted  that  no  rebels  could  stand  before  such  forces. 
There  would  hardly  be  a battle  at  all.  The  rebels 
would  run  as  soon  as  they  caught  sight  of  the  brave 
men.  But  there  were  others  who  had  no  boasting 
words  to  speak.  They  knew  that  most  of  these 
soldiers  had  never  seen  a battle,  and  that  the  rebels 
had  fought  in  many.  More  than  that,  in  most  of 
the  battles,  the  rebels  had  won  the  victory.  The 
Tai  Pings  Avere  brave  men,  used  to  fighting,  and 
were  fighting  because  they  believed  they  were  right 
and  that  the  Chinese  ought  to  rule  their  own  coun- 
try. Many  of  the  men  who  went  with  the  govern- 
ment army  tvere  not  only  no  soldiers,  but  were 
cowards.  They  went  to  battle  because  they  could 
not  help  it  or  because  they  were  paid  for  it.  If 
there  were  any  running,  it  was  likely  to  be  among 
the  soldiers,  who  cared  little  more  for  the  Tartars 
than  they  did  for  the  Tai  Pings.  These  would  be 
content,  whoever  ruled,  if  they  themselves  might 
have  something  to  eat  and  money  to  spend. 

Every  one  in  the  city  was  anxious  to  know  the 
result  of  the  battle  that  they  knew  would  be  fought, 
and  many  were  ready  to  run  away  if  they  did  but 
know  of  a safe  place  to  which  to  fly. 

The  insurgents  were  not  only  in  armies;  they 
were  everywhere.  Many,  pretending  to  be  rebels, 
were  merely  robbei-s,  watching  for  a chance  to  jilun- 


266 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIEL. 


der.  It  was  one  of  these  bands  of  robbers  which 
had  stolen  Ban’s  money  and  son. 

Some  of  the  people  in  the  city  wished  to  make 
all  the  prcpai’ation  possible,  in  case  the  rebels  should 
come  before  it,  but  others  ridiculed  this.  It  was 
im])ossible  that  the  army  they  had  sent  out  should 
be  defeated  by  the  Tai  Pings.  Even  if  they  should 
attack  the  city,  the  great  walls  around  it  were  so 
high  that  no  one  could  climb  ov'^er  them,  and  so 
thick  that  nothing  could  break  them  down.  Noth- 
ing was  done  to  prepare  for  a battle  or  to  withstand 
a siege.  But  many  a woman,  and  not  a few  men, 
went  daily  to  the  temples  to  pray  the  gods  to  spare 
the  city.  The  people  told  the  idols  that  the  enemies 
of  the  gods  as  well  as  of  themselves  were  coming, 
and  that  the  long-haired  rebels  destroyed  all  the 
temples  and  broke  down  every  image  of  the  gods 
that  could  be  found ; so  that  it  was  as  much  for  the 
good  of  the  idols  as  of  themselves  that  the  rebels 
should  be  driven  back. 

Tlie  Foo  city  stood,  as  we  have  already  said,  on 
the  bank  of  a small  river,  across  which  was  the 
large  stone  bridge  that  Khiau  saw  in  his  trip  to  Ha 
Bun.  On  tlie  opposite  side  of  the  river  from  the 
city  was  a very  large  and  beautiful  temple.  In  it 
there  were  a number  of  great  images,  some  nearly 
thirty  feet  high.  Among  these  was  a beautiful  one 
twenty  feet  in  height,  cut  out  of  stone  and  covered 
over  with  gold.  This  temple  stood  right  on  the 
road  that  the  rebels  would  take  to  reach  the  city  if 


THE  REBELS  CAPTURE  THE  CITY.  267 

they  crossed  by  the  bridge,  for  they  must  cross  the 
river. 

The  danger  to  these  images  and  to  the  temple, 
the  people  sui)posed,  would  make  the  gods  feel  that 
they  must  drive  back  the  rebels  if  they  would  save 
tlieir  own  property.  The  temple  was  the  best  pro- 
tection against  the  rebels.  Great  numbers  went 
thither  to  pray  that  the  gods  would  take  care  of 
them  as  well  as  of  the  temple  and  images. 

Hardly  had  the  army  left  when  news  came  that 
the  rebels  had  started  on  their  way  to  the  city,  and 
were  only  a few  days’  march  distant.  It  was  cer- 
tain then  that  a few  days  would  decide  whether  or 
not  the  Tai  Pings  would  be  driven  back. 

It  was  an  anxious  time.  The  army  had  been 
seen ; it  was  marching  boldly  on,  but  how  far  from 
the  rebels  none  seemed  to  know.  The  Tai  Pings 
were  careful  not  to  let  their  enemies  find  out  what 
they  were  doing,  though  they  themselves  learned 
all  about  the  movements  of  the  imperial  army.  As 
there  were  no  large  cities  along  their  course,  and 
no  walled  towns  to  capture,  the  rebels  came  swiftly 
on,  while  the  other  army  moved  more  slowly. 

Two  days’  journey  from  the  Foo  city  the  two 
armies  came  almost  in  sight  of  each  other.  There 
was  a long  crooked  valley  with  high  steep  hills  on 
either  side.  Down  this  tlie  rebels  came  while  the 
government  army  was  slowly  jjassing  up.  In  a 
turn,  and  at  the  naiTowest  point  in  the  valley,  the 
two  forces  suddenly  met.  With  a ferocious  yell 


268 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE- GIRL. 


tlie  Tai  Pings  rushed  upon  their  enemies.  Then 
began  a terrible  battle.  Shut  in  by  the  steep  hill- 
sides and  crowded  up  by  the  long  line  of  soldiers 
behind  them,  the  foremost  of  the  imperial  army 
could  not  run,  and  nothing  was  left  for  them  but 
to  fight  or  die.  They  met  the  yell  of  the  rebels 
with  a shout  almost  as  frightful,  and  at  once  plunged 
into  the  fight.  It  was  not  a battle  with  guns  or 
bows  and  arrows,  but  with  spears  and  swords  and 
knives  and  daggers. 

The  Tai  Pings,  sure  of  victory,  yet  enraged  that 
the  imperial  army  had  dared  to  come  so  far  to  meet 
them,  fought  with  all  the  more  ferocity.  They 
fought  as  though  two  centuries  of  hate  were  press- 
ed into  the  few  brief  horn’s  of  that  single  battle. 
Lately  some  of  their  armies  had  been  defeated  and 
driven  from  the  plaees  captured,  and  now  they 
burned  to  wipe  out  the  shame  of  other  defeats  in 
the  blood  of  the  men  who  had  come  to  stop  their 
progress  and  victories. 

The  government  soldiers,  shut  in,  fought  like 
caged  tigers.  They  knew  well  that  to  beg  for  life 
would  be  to  give  the  rebels  only  the  better  chance 
to  kill  them,  and  they  fought  on  desperately,  de- 
spairingly, wishing,  hoping  that  those  in  the  rear 
would  turn  back,  would  give  them  at  least  a chance 
for  life.  They  fought  knowing  they  must  die; 
fought  because  it  was  all  they  could  do;  fought 
until  they  fell  one  by  one,  bleeding,  gasping,  dying, 
dead.  As  one  after  another  of  those  in  front  fell 


THE  REBELS  CAPTURE  THE  CITY.  269 


the  mad  rebels  pressed  on,  trampling  upon  the 
bodies,  eager  to  lay  other  victims  beside  them. 
Nor  did  the  imperial  soldiers  alone  fall ; many  a 
rebel  lay  mangled  beside  the  man  he  had  killed. 
The  ground  was  soon  piled  with  the  dying  and  the 
dead ; and  as  the  furious  attack  of  the  Tai  Pings 
slowly  forced  their  front  ranks  over  the  prostrate 
imperialists,  the  ground  was  covered  for  a long  dis- 
tance with  the  victims  of  the  terrible  slaughter. 
There  were  no  wounded ; the  fight  was  deadly  and 
was  a hand-to-hand  combat,  ending  with  the  death 
of  one  or  both  warriors.  No  prisoners  were  taken. 
To  yield  was  to  be  butchered.  Neither  side  could 
take  care  of  captives,  and  the  madness  of  battle 
knew  no  mercy. 

But  such  fighting  could  not  continue  long.  It 
lasted  only  until  the  desperation  and  despair  felt 
by  the  front  ranks  of  the  imperial  soldiers  could 
slowly  creep  to  the  rear.  When  that  feeling  came, 
the  soldiers  there,  panic-stricken,  started  from  the 
battle-field.  Tliose  before  them  followed ; and  soon 
the  almost  solid  mass  of  men,  pressing  against  the 
front  of  the  rebel  army,  was  scattered.  Officers  and 
soldiers,  each  thinking  of  self  only,  ran  for  life. 
The  victorious  rebels,  fully  as  swift  of  foot,  pursued. 
That  which  had  been  a battle,  then  a rout,  became 
a horrible  butchery.  Foi’tunately  for  the  fugitives, 
the  valley  ended  in  a plain  surrounded  by  lesser 
hills.  Scattering  over  this  plain  and  running  over  the 
hills,  many  escaped  the  jiursuing  foe.  Reaching  a 


270 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


place  of  safety,  they  gradually  came  together  in 
their  flight  toward  the  Foo  city. 

The  rebels,  satisfied  with  their  victory  and  know- 
ing that  the  imperial  army  could  not  rally  to  give 
them  battle,  stopped  the  pursuit  to  enjoy  the  tri- 
uni])h.  They  knew  that  it  would  be  better  to  let 
the  frightened  fugitives  tell  in  the  city  the  story  of 
defeat  and  carry  the  panic  there  than  to  appear 
suddenly  before  it  themselves. 

After  resting  from  the  battle  the  victors  marched 
to  the  river  and  leisurely  moved  down  along  the 
bank.  Many  beautiful  temples  along  the  water  or 
among  the  hills  standing  back  from  the  river  were 
set  on  fire  or  pulled  to  the  ground.  Ruin  marked 
the  track  of  the  conquerors.  While  villages  that 
welcomed  them — and  nearly  all  through  fear,  if  not 
because  friendly  to  the  rebels,  did  give  them  a wel- 
come— wore  spared,  not  a temple  was  left.  The 
bare  walls  or  the  charred  ruins  alone  told  where  the 
temples  had  stood. 

The  commanders  of  the  defeated  army,  gathering 
together  as  many  of  their  soldiers  as  they  could, 
hastened  to  the  city.  They  expected  the  rebels  to 
pursue  them,  or  possibly  by  taking  another  route,  to 
reach  the  city  before  them.  Their  stops  on  the  way, 
therefore,  were  short.  The  frightened  men  were  as 
anxious  to  reach  a place  of  safety  as  were  their 
officers. 

But  what  account  should  be  given  of  the  battle? 
To  owm  their  defeat  would  bring  disgrace  upon 


THE  REBELS  CAPTURE  THE  CITY.  271 


them— perhaps  torture,  and  to  some  even  death. 
Besides,  it  would  so  terrify  the  people  in  the  city 
that  they  would  not  dare  to  shut  the  gates  against 
the  I’ebels.  Some  other  than  the  true  account  of 
the  battle  must  be  given.  It  was  accordingly  de- 
cided to  report  that  they  had  met  the  I’ebels,  killed 
a great  multitude  of  them  and  forced  the  rest  to  fly 
from  the  field. 

Nor  was  this  entirely  untrue.  They  did  kill  a 
great  many  of  the  rebels,  though  many  more  of 
their  own  side  were  killed,  and  the  rebels  were 
forced  to  run  from  the  battle-field,  but  it  Avas  after 
the  escaping  fugitives  of  the  imperial  army.  But 
the  rest  of  the  story  had  not  so  much  truth  in  it. 
Tliey  agreed  to  say  further  that  when  the  army 
which  they  had  met  was  defeated,  they  learned  of 
another  host  taking  a different  course  to  reach  the 
city,  and  they  were  forced  to  leave  the  dead  un- 
buricd  and  the  spoils  of  the  battle  uugathered  and 
to  kill  all  of  their  prisoners,  so  that  they  might,  if 
possible,  reach  the  city  before  the  other  rebels  came 
in  sight  of  it.  If  asked  where  the  flags  were,  and 
the  weapons  tliat  had  been  thrown  away  in  their 
flight,  the  answer  must  be  that,  as  the  flags  would 
be  of  little  use  inside  the  city,  and  as  tliey  hindered 
them  in  their  haste  to  reach  it,  these  had  been  left 
behind,  as  had  also  the  heavier  weapons.  To  give 
an  answer  to  the  question  where  the  other  half  of 
the  army  was — for  hardly  half  was  Avith  the  com- 
manders— Avas  not  so  easy.  They  Avere  to  say  further 


272 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


that  the  battle  had  been  terrible,  that  the  rebels 
fought  bravely;  many  of  the  imperial  soldiers  had 
been  killed,  though  as  many  as  ten  rebels  had  died 
for  one  of  their  own  side.  And  besides,  many  of 
their  men  had  been  left  behind  to  complete  their 
work,  the  honor  of  which  they  were  unable  to 
share.  All  were  satisfied  with  this  story,  knowing 
that  the  rebels  would  follow  them  so  soon  that  there 
would  be  little  time  to  think  or  learn  whether  it 
were  true  or  false.  Thus  they  hoped  to  gain  honor 
from  their  very  defeat. 

AVhen  the  army  with  the  leaders  reached  the 
city,  their  appearance  was  not  that  of  those  who 
had  won  a great  victory.  More  tlian  that,  some 
who  started  first  from  the  field  of  battle,  and  who 
had  taken  no  time  to  make  up  a fair  story  on  the 
Avay,  had  arrived  before  them.  These  had  told 
the  truth,  and  already  the  city  was  in  great  fear 
of  the  approaching  rebels.  The  army,  when  near- 
ing the  city,  moved  in  regular  order,  and  this  fact, 
added  to  the  plausible  story  told  by  the  officers, 
made  the  people  believe  that,  after  all,  the  strag- 
gling fugitives  had,  as  it  was  said,  been  frightened 
by  the  first  appearance  of  the  rebels,  and  without 
waiting  for  results  or  engaging  in  the  battle  at  all 
had  run  away  and  made  up  this  story  as  they  ran. 

Shamed  and  disgraced,  the  truth-telling  fugitives 
were  silent  or  tried  to  make  others  believe  that 
they  came  back  with  the  army.  Nothing  further 
was  said  of  the  defeat.  The  supposed  victors 


THE  REBELS  CAPTURE  THE  CITY.  273 


escaped  disgrace,  and  were  even  honored  by  the 
peo})le.  Yet  there  were  not  a few  who  believed 
the  first  news  of  the  battle.  They  knew  that  Chi- 
nese officers  rarely  tell  the  truth  if  it  be  against 
themselves.  And  they  knew  that  if  a lie  would  save 
them  from  disgrace  and  punishment  few  Chinamen 
would  tell  the  truth  at  all. 

The  people  had  little  time  to  think  of  the  vic- 
tory, for  was  there  not  another  army  of  rebels 
coming  to  attack  the  city?  Those  who  did  not 
believe  the  story  of  the  victory  were  sure  that  the 
rebels  would  soon  appear  before  the  walls. 

Hardly  had  the  first  excitement  of  the  return 
of  the  soldiers  subsided  when  a man  came  hur- 
riedly into  the  city  from  up  the  river,  saying  that 
a rebel  army  was  marching  down  the  bank,  de- 
stroying every  temple  and  ca})turing  every  village 
on  the  way,  and  that  no  time  was  to  be  lost  in 
repulsing  them,  or  they  would  be  in  front  of 
the  city. 

This  certainly  must  be  that  other  army  of  which 
the  victors  had  learned,  thought  the  people.  Why 
should  not  the  brave  men  who  defeated  the  first 
rebel  army  go  out  and  drive  off  this  army  also  be- 
fore it  reached  the  city?  This  seemed  reasonable, 
and  many  ui’ged  it,  but  they  were  not  those  who  had 
been  in  the  battle.  These  now  saw  that  a lie  brings 
trouble.  When  they  refused  to  go,  and  wei’e  sup- 
jjorted  in  their  refusal  by  their  officers,  the  people 
wondered  what  had  become  of  their  bravery. 

IS 


274 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-GIRL. 


Wlien  those  who  had  defeated  one  army  were 
afraid  to  meet  another,  then  the  people  believed 
that  the  rebels  were  indeed  to  be  feared.  The  un- 
truth had  not  wrought  all  its  evil  yet. 

One  after  another  came  to  the  city,  telling  that 
the  Tai  Pings  were  approaching  nearer  and  nearer. 
T'earful  reports  were  brought  of  the  destruction  and 
loss  of  life  caused  by  the  rebels,  and  the  people  be- 
came almost  wild  with  terror.  Instead  of  send- 
ing out  an  army  to  meet  the  enemy,  men  were  sent 
to  destroy  the  large  stone  bridge,  and  thus  prevent 
the  rebels  crossing  to  the  city.  The  immense  stones 
of  the  arch  nearest  the  city  were  thrown  down  and 
the  bridge  rendered  impassable. 

The  frightened  people  had  not  long  to  wait.  In 
a few  days  the  Tai  Ping  army  was  seen  coming 
down  to  the  bridge  near  the  temple.  Without 
stopping  to  destroy  the  great  temple — only  taking 
time  to  deface  the  building  and  the  larger  idols — 
the  soldiers  hurried  to  the  bridge  to  cross  at  once. 
Finding  it  broken,  they  seized  all  the  boats  in 
reach,  and  were  quickly  carried  to  the  other  side. 
Some  were  so  eager  to  cross  that  they  plunged  into 
the  shallow  water  and  waded  or  swam  over. 

The  Tai  Pings  wore  before  the  Foo  city  at  last. 
But  between  them  and  its  capture  were  the  strong, 
high  walls  that  completely  surrounded  it.  Those 
walls  were  many  feet  in  thickness,  and  nothing  that 
the  rebels  had  could  break  through  them.  From 
twenty  to  thirty  feet  or  more  in  height,  it  was  impos- 


THE  REBELS  CAPTURE  THE  CITY.  275 


sible  to  climb  over  them.  Besides,  soldiers  were 
stationed  all  along  the  broad  top  of  the  walls, 
protected  from  the  shots  of  the  enemy  by  a narrow 
parapet  built  on  the  top  of  the  outside  edge  of  the 
city  walls.  The  gates  of  the  city  were  well  guard- 
ed and  almost  as  strong  as  the  walls  themselves. 
To  the  rebels  it  seemed  almost  impossible  to  cap- 
ture the  place,  except  by  starving  the  people  and 
forcing  them  to  give  up  the  city.  But  an  imperial 
army  might  attack  them  long  before  the  people 
were  compelled  by  hunger  to  open  the  gates.  The 
city  must  be  taken  soon  or  not  at  all ; and  if  not 
captured,  the  rebels  could  go  no  farther.  To 
march  down  the  river  and  leave  the  strong  Foo 
city  behind  them,  ready  to  send  tens  of  thousands 
of  soldiers  to  engage  them  in  the  rear  when  they 
might  be  fighting  the  imperialists  in  front,  would 
be  almost  certain  destruction.  They  must  conquer 
the  Foo  city.  But  how?  For  some  time  they 
w'ere  compelled  to  look  wistfully  at  it,  counting  on 
a defeat  and  a retreat  over  the  country  through 
which  they  had  come. 

The  inhabitants  of  the  citv  began  to  lose  their 
fear,  and  to  listen  to  the  men  who  had  boasted  of 
victory  over  the  rebels  as  they  loudly  declared 
that  the  Tai  Pings  would  not  dare  attack  the  place 
since  the  army  had  entered  it.  They  said  that  the 
walls  would  do  the  fighting,  and  the  fears  of  the 
rebels  would  at  length  drive  them  away.  The 
people  gradually  felt  more  safe,  and  grew  careless; 


276 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


a less  vigilant  watch  was  taken  of  the  gates,  and 
the  soldiers  dozed  on  the  walls. 

One  uiglit  the  people  were  startled  by  yells, 
shouts  and  screams  ringing  through  the  streets  of 
the  city.  The  gates  were  open  and  the  Tai  Pings 
were  inside.  Whether  the  rebels  had  climbed  over 
the  .vail  and  opened  the  gates,  or  whether  some  of 
their  friends  within  had  opened  them,  is  uncertain, 
but  the  rebels  held  the  city.  No  battle  could  be 
fought  in  tlie  narrow  streets,  and  an  easy  victory 
was  gained.  But  it  was  not  a bloodless  one. 
Many  who  went  to  sleep  at  night  hoping  that 
the  rebels  would  never  enter  the  city  died  by 
the  rebel  swords  before  morning  came. 

Maddened  becau.se  they  had  been  unable  for  so 
many  days  to  take  the  place,  and  made  furious  by 
news  of  defeats  that  the  Tai  Ping  armies  had 
suftered  in  other  })laces,  the  rebels  acted  like 
demons.  Not  only  were  the  idols  of  the  temples 
destroyed  and  the  temples  them.selves  left  in  ruins, 
but  the  grounds  around  the  beautiful  buildings 
were  desolated.  Not  a temple  was  left  standing 
in  the  whole  city.  Not  content  with  destroying 
these,  the  rebels  pulled  down  the  houses  of  the 
people  and  left  whole  streets  in  ruins.  The  bare 
walls  of  the  houses  or  the  piles  of  rubbish  told 
where  thousands  of  homes  had  been.  Nor  did 
they  stop  with  this  work  of  destruction.  Every 
officer  of  the  government,  every  Mantchu  and 
every  relative  of  the  officers  whom  they  could 


THE  REBELS  CAPTURE  THE  CITY.  277 


find  were  butchered.  Friends  of  the  Tartars  and 
those  known  to  be  enemies  of  the  Tai  Pings  were 
murdered  by  hundreds.  Parents  and  children  were 
left  dead  together  in  their  own  ruined  homes  or  in 
the  streets  before  their  doors. 

Every  one  who  could  escape  from  the  city  did 
so ; many  were  caught  and  killed  as  enemies  upon 
no  other  proof  than  the  fact  that  they  were  leaving 
the  place.  Some  hid  themselves  in  old  walls  or 
among  the  ruins  of  the  city,  but  these  were  at 
length  forced  by  hunger  to  come  from  their  hiding- 
places,  many  to  suffer  a more  speedy  death.  Near 
the  wall  was  an  old  covered  ditch  hidden  from 
view.  Into  this  damp  and  filthy  place  many 
crept,  some  to  die,  and  others  to  be  killed  when 
they  came  from  their  hiding-place.  A few  re- 
mained until  a favorable  opportunity  came,  and 
then  escaped.  From  one  of  these  the  author 
learned  some  of  the  facts  related  here. 

When  the  rebels  had  finished  their  work  of 
destruction,  a large  part  of  the  city  was  in  ruins 
and  some  of  the  streets  were  almost  paved  with 
dead  bodies.  These  were  left  unburied,  to  rot  in 
the  sun  and  to  fill  the  air  with  a horrid  stench 
that  made  the  Foo  city  a charnel-house  of  corrup- 
tion, whose  pestilential  breath  soon  added  to  the 
already  fearful  list  of  the  dead. 

After  completing  their  work  of  desolation  the 
rebels  rested  for  a time  and  enjoyed  their  victory, 
if  mortals  can  enjoy  victory  after  doing  such  deeds 


278 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


of  horror.  They  delayed  their  march  down  the 
river,  not  merely  because  they  were  resting  and 
preparing  for  an  attack  on  the  cities  along  the 
water,  but  because  of  a superstition  that  they  as 
well  as  other  Chinese  believed. 

Near  the  mouth  of  the  river,  and  on  the  way 
to  Ha  Bun,  was  a small  island  on  which  had  been 
built,  many  years — j>robably  centuries — before,  a 
large,  solid,  eight-sided  stone  tower  called  a 
pagoda.  This,  however,  was  different  from  the 
ordinary  Chinese  pagodas  in  that  it  was  solid 
and  had  no  rooms  or  stairway  within.  It  had 
been  built,  so  the  Chinese  believed,  to  protect  the 
cities  on  the  water  from  all  evil  influence.  And 
the  Tai  Pings  thought  that  as  long  as  this  pagoda 
stood  so  long  would  the  cities  they  proposed  to 
capture  be  safe.  Instead  of  attacking  the  cities 
themselves,  men  were  sent  to  destroy  the  tower. 
So  strongly  was  it  built  that  its  destruction  took 
a long  time.  Before  the  tower  was  entirely  de- 
stroyed an  imperial  army  was  gathered  at  Ha 
Bun,  and  marched  up  to  meet  the  rebels  and  drive 
them  from  the  Foo  city.  The  side  of  the  pagoda 
toward  that  city  was  destroyed,  but  the  side  toward 
Ha  Bun 'was  only  partly  thrown  down.  It  was 
supposed  by  the  Chinese  that  the  standing  of  this 
part  of  the  tower  was  the  cause  of  the  rebels’ 
failure  in  their  plans  for  capturing  the  other  cities, 
as  well  as  for  holding  the  Foo  city  itself. 

The  imperial  army  marched  up  to  the  Foo  city, 


THE  REBELS  CAPTURE  THE  CITY.  279 


which  ill  turn  was  captured  by  them.  Then  fol- 
lowed a butchery  so  horrible  that  we  dare  not 
attempt  to  describe  it.  The  rebels  were  conquered, 
and  those  who  did  not  escape  were  killed.  Very 
many  of  the  people  of  the  city  also  who  had  been 
friendly  to  the  rebels  suffered  with  them. 

In  these  two  captures  the  city  was  nearly  de- 
stroyed. Fully  three-fourths  of  it  were  laid  in 
ruins,  and  instead  of  a city  of  nearly  if  not  quite 
a million  of  inhabitants,  it  had  less  than  two  hun- 
dred thousand  left.*  Probably  most  of  the  eight 
hundred  thousand  missing  ones  were  killed. 

Thus  it  is  that  war  desolates  China.  Is  it  strange 
that  the  people  dread  war,  and  will  submit  to  almost 
everything  rather  than  rebel?  Bad  as  their  gov- 
ernment is,  they  obey  it  rather  than  allow  their 
hate  to  drive  them  to  deeds  of  revenge  that,  if 
punished  by  the  Tartars,  will  be  punished  without 
mercy. 

* The  author  spent  some  time  in  this  city  several  years  after 
its  capture.  There  were  then  probably  a little  more  tlian  two 
hundred  thousand  inhabitants  within  the  walls.  Two-thirds  of 
the  city  yet  lay  in  ruins.  Street  after  street  reaching  from  wall 
to  wall  was  utterly  desolate.  The  only  sound  heard  in  them 
was  the  sound  of  the  footsteps  of  the  two  who  viewed  the  des- 
olation. Where  perhaps  as  many  as  one  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  dwellings  had  stood  there  remained  nothing  but 
the  roofless  houses,  the  bare  walls  or  the  piles  of  rubbish  that 
told  of  the  homes  that  had  been. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

A LONELY  WANDERER. 

Those  awful  months  from  the  capture  of  the 
Foo  city  by  the  Tai  Pings  until  the  last  rebel 
was  driven  away  or  buried  we  will  not  describe. 
Idle  story  is  too  horrible  to  be  repeated. 

The  Tai  Pings  were  cruel  wretches,  yet  there  was 
some  excuse  for  their  cruelty.  Descended  from 
those  who  for  more  than  two  centuries  had  sutfered 
the  tyrannical  rule  of  the  Mantchus,  they  felt  that 
not  only  their  own  wrongs  but  those  of  several 
generations  called  for  vengeance.  Governed  by 
men  who  sold  justice  to  the  highest  ladder,  taxed 
beyond  their  power  to  pay,  loaded  with  other  bur- 
dens that  had  not  even  the  name  of  taxes  to  make 
them  seem  honest,  the  people  had  become  a nation 
of  paupers.  Teaching  honesty,  speaking  fine- 
sounding  words  of  morality,  pretending  to  be  pure 
and  virtuous,  many  of  the  rulei*s  might  have  taught 
the  greatest  rogues  how  to  cheat,  the  chief  liars  to 
lie  more  shrewdly;  they  might  have  instructed  the 
vile  in  deeds  of  darkness,  and  upon  the  check  of 
the  villain  they  might  have  (iaused  the  blush  of 
280 


J LONELY  WANDERER. 


281 


shame,  as  their  baser  deeds  made  even  his  seem  to 
be  moral  and  pure. 

The  Tartars  had  instructed  the  Chinese  in  deeds 
of  cruelty,  and  two  centuries  in  the  school  of  tor- 
ture taught  by  such  masters  had  not  left  even  this 
peace-loving  people  without  some  knowledge  of 
revenge.  Many  of  the  Chinese  for  a slight  offence, 
and  sometimes  for  no  offence  at  all,  were  beaten  to 
death,  torn  on  the  rack,  crucified,  starved,  buried 
alive,  closed  in  air-tight  coffins  to  be  suffocated, 
backed  to  pieces  with  the  sword, — not  to  refer  to 
many  other  modes  of  killing  by  the  officials.  Is  it 
strana:e  that  the  Tai  Ping:  rebels,  after  learning  and 
suffering  from  such  teachers,  should  have  re[>aid 
their  masters’  torture  with  cruel  revenge  ? The 
only  wonder  is  that  they  did  not  imitate  more  per- 
fectly Tartar  barbarity. 

Nor  must  it  be  forgotten  that  the  Tartar  govern- 
ment drove  the  rebels  to  retaliation  by  its  own  mer- 
ciless treatment  of  its  Tai  Ping  prisoners.  By  its 
own  cruelty  the  government  foi’ced  into  war  what 
was  at  first  rather  a gathering  of  disciples  learning 
a new  religion  than  an  army  engaged  in  rebellion. 
It  taught  these  men  to  rebel ; it  taught  them  to  be 
cruel ; and  when  the  pupils  had  done  their  part  in 
this  exhibition  of  horrors,  then  the  masters  showed 
that  the  taught  had  only  begun  to  learn  the  first 
lesson  of  fiendish  ferocity. 

Tliere  is  an  awful  chapter  of  yet  unwritten  his- 
tory in  China,  and  the  depopulated  villages,  the 


282 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


ruined  cities,*  the  roofless  houses,  the  crumbling 
walls,  the  masses  of  rubbish  left  in  the  inhabited 
to^\•ns,  form  the  records  to  be  searched  by  the  fu- 
ture historian.  But  he  can  never  tell  of  the  ag- 
onies sufiered,  nor  can  he  say  how  many  millions 
were  offered  a sacrifice,  that  the  Mantchus  might 
continue  to  hold  their  feet  ujion  the  necks  of  an 
oppressed  peojile.  Nor  are  the  records  yet  finished. 
Some  day  there  will  arise  another  rebellion,  and  no 
Tartar-paid  troops,  disciplined  by  an  American 
Ward  and  commanded  by  an  English  Gordon,  will 
put  it  down.  That  rebellion  may  repeat  the  horrors 
of  the  Tai  Ping  uprising,  but  there  will  be  no  Mant- 
chu  triumph  to  end  it.  And  then  it  will  be  seen 
that  the  Chinese  Samson  who  has  been  grinding  in 
the  prison-house  of  the  Tartar  conquerors  is  not 
blind.  He  will  escape  when  he  pulls  down  the 
pillars  and  brings  destruction  on  those  whom  he 
has  served.  The  nations  will  learn  too  that  he  is 
no  longer  the  fettered  Samson  making  sport  for 
those  who  would  ridicule,  but  a giant  to  be  honored 
— a giant  wdio.se  just  wi’ath  is  to  be  dreaded. 

But  we  owe  an  apology  to  our  readers  for  going 
so  far  and  continuing  so  long  away  from  the  line 
of  our  story. 

* The  antlior  was  told  some  time  since  by  a British  consul 
who  had  traveled  through  the  interior  of  China  several  years 
after  the  rebellion  was  put  down  that  he  visited  a number  of 
ruined  cities  in  which  there  was  not  a human  being  living ; all 
had  been  killed  or  driven  away  during  the  rebellion. 


A LONELY  WANDERER. 


283 


Where,  during  all  this  war  and  horror  were  Leng 
Tso  and  her  little  family?  When  the  screams  wei’e 
heard  in  the  city,  Ban  hurried  into  the  street.  He 
guessed  what  the  noise  meant,  and  hastened  back 
to  tell  his  family.  The  rebels  were  in  the  city; 
they  had  entered  in  the  night,  and  before  morning, 
he  said,  all  would  be  killed.  To  try  to  escape  in 
the  darkness  was  the  only  hope  for  them,  and  they 
must  try  at  once  to  reach  the  gates.  They  might 
in  some  way  get  through  in  the  excitement,  or,  if 
that  failed,  perhai)S  they  might  find  their  way  to 
the  top  of  the  wall  and  let  themselves  down  by  a 
rope. 

As  quickly  as  possible  they  gathered  together  a 
few  things  that  were  most  needed ; these  were  tied 
in  a bundle  and  given  to  Leng  Tso.  Ban  took  his 
money  and  a rope  with  which  to  let  themselves  from 
the  wall,  and,  giving  the  boy  to  the  care  of  the 
grandmother,  all  started  from  their  home,  agreeing, 
if  they  were  separated,  to  meet  at  a certain  gate,  or, 
if  not  there,  at  a place  near  the  wall. 

Trying  to  keep  as  far  as  possible  from  the  noise, 
and  going  as  rapidly  and  quietly  as  they  could,  they 
hurried  along  through  the  dark  streets.  Here  and 
there  only  were  any  people  met,  and  these  seemed 
too  much  frightened  to  notice  the  little  company. 
The  rest  were  probably  hiding  in  their  homes  or 
had  already  escaped  from  them. 

All  went  well  until  they  came  to  a broader  street. 
Here  a number  of  men  were  gathered : they  were 


284 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIEL. 


Tai  Pings.  Before  Ban  had  time  to  run  back  the 
men  caught  him.  His  mother,  with  Ko  Chin,  was 
a short  distance  behind,  and  farther  back  still  was 
Leng  Tso,  carrying  her  bundle.  When  they  saw 
the  soldiers  take  Ban,  both  women  started  back. 
In  a moment  Leng  Tso  turned  and  said,  as  she 
reached  out  her  hand  to  the  child, 

“ Let  me  take  him.” 

No,”  said  the  old  woman ; “ I can  take  better 
care  of  him.  Hurry  on,  lest  the  soldiers  capture 
us  too.” 

When  far  away  from  the  soldiers  the  two  women 
stopped  to  consult  as  to  what  was  to  be  done.  They 
dai’ed  not  try  to  reach  the  gate,  nor  yet  the  wall. 
Besides,  Ban  was  a prisoner.  They  could  not  es- 
cape in  the  night  without  him.  There  was  only 
one  thing  they  could  do,  and  that  was  to  go  back 
to  their  home ; perhaps  he  might  be  set  free,  and  he 
would  find  them  there  more  easily  than  at  the 
gate  or  by  the  wall.  They  returned,  and  waited 
anxiously  for  the  morning.  No  son,  husband, 
father  came.  Daylight  came,  and  with  it  the 
awful  uncertainty  about  Ban. 

“ He  must  be  found,”  said  his  mother.  “ I am 
too  old  to  go  around  to  search  for  him ; besides,  I 
am  a small-footed  woman,  and  the  rebels,  if  they 
see  me,  will  be  more  likely  to  kill  me.  They  will 
think  that  you  belong  to  the  poor  women  if  you  go 
barefooted  and  dressed  in  poor  clothes.” 

Leng  Tso  was  afraid  to  go ; besides,  she  did  not 


A LONELY  WANDERER. 


285 


see  how  it  would  be  possible  for  her,  a weak  womau, 
to  do  anything  to  save  her  husband  from  the  rebels. 
And  where  should  she  go  to  find  him  ? In  vain 
she  urged  that  it  would  be  useless  to  attempt  any- 
thing, and  would  only  risk  her  own  life. 

“And  is  not  the  life  of  my  son  and  this  boy’s 
father  worth  anything?”  asked  the  mother-in-law. 
“After  he  has  cared  for  you  so  long,  are  you  not 
willing  to  risk  anything  to  save  him?  If  he  is 
gone,  what  can  you  do  ? What  will  his  boy  do  for 
a father?  What  shall  I do?  Go!  seek  my  son, 
or  be  unworthy  the  name  of  a wife  and  mother.” 

Leng  Tso  felt  that  she  must  obey.  How  gladly 
would  she  have  listened  to  Ko  Chin : “ Mother, 
please  do  not  leave  me.  I am  your  only  boy.  If 
the  rebels  have  taken  my  father,  they  may  take 
you.  Where  then  shall  I go?” 

“You  would  have  me  yet,”  said  his  grandmother. 

“ But  I want  my  mother  and  my  father,”  replied 
the  boy. 

“Your  mother  is  going  to  find  your  father,”  said 
the  old  woman. 

Giving  Ko  Chin  a long  embrace,  the  mother  went 
tremblingly  out  into  the  street.  Where  should  she 
go  ? What  should  she  do  ? She  went,  as  she  could 
think  of  nothing  else  to  do,  to  the  place  where  Ban 
was  captured  by  the  rebels,  but  saw  nothing  of  him, 
of  course.  In  the  doorway  of  a house  along  the 
street  she  saw  a friend,  who  told  her  to  come  in. 
In  low  tones  the  two  women  talked  of  the  capture 


286 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


of  Ban  by  tlie  rebels,  and  each  tried  to  encourage 
the  other  with  the  hope  that  he  would  be  set  free 
again. 

“ But  it  is  useless,”  said  her  friend  to  Leng  Tso, 
“ to  try  to  find  him  ; the  rebels  have  possession  of 
the  whole  city,  and  they  will  not  let  people  go 
around  the  government  buildings.” 

Then  she  told  Leng  Tso  that  her  own  husband 
was  secretly  one  of  the  Tai  Pings,  and  had  gone 
out  to  join  them. 

“ Perhaps  Ban  will  do  the  same,  and  then  his 
life  and  the  lives  of  you  all  will  be  sjiared,”  said 
she.  “But  go  home,  and,  to  make  sure  of  it,  bring 
your  mother-in-law  and  your  boy  here.  They  will 
be  safe  in  the  home  of  a Tai  Ping.  Before  many 
months  the  Tai  Pings  will  rule  the  whole  of  the 
Middle  Kingdom.” 

Leng  Tso  hurried  home,  comforted  with  the  hope 
that  Ban  had  joined  the  Tai  Pings  and  would  yet 
be  saved.  But  when  she  reached  it  the  door  stood 
wide  open,  and  as  she  entered  neither  Ko  Chin 
nor  her  mother-in-law  appeared.  Through  the 
whole  house  she  searched,  but  could  find  neither 
of  them,  and  nothing  to  show  where  they  had  gone 
or  why  they  had  left.  In  the  street  she  called  to 
them,  but  no  answer  came.  Thinking  that  per- 
haps they  had  gone  out  for  a few  moments  and 
would  soon  be  back,  she  waited  for  their  return. 
The  minutes  lengthened  into  hours.  Leng  Tso 
waited  yet.  She  hardly  dared  go  out  into  the 


A LONELY  WANDERER. 


287 


street,  for  a dread  of  meeting  the  Tai  Ping  sol- 
diers came  over  her;  yet  she  felt  that  something 
must  be  done.  Perhaps  they  had  gone  to  the  house 
of  some  near  neighbor;  she  would  look  for  them 
there.  She  was  surprised  to  find  some  houses  with 
doors  locked,  and  others,  like  her  own  home,  with 
the  doors  standing  wide  open,  and  no  one  to  be 
seen  or  heard  anywhere  around.  What  could 
this  all  mean? 

After  going  to  a number  of  houses,  to  find  no 
one  in  or  doors  locked,  she  saw  a lame  old  woman 
looking  through  the  crack  of  a door.  Leng  Tso 
knew  her,  and  asked  to  be  admitted.  At  first  the 
old  woman  would  not,  until  Leng  Tso  told  her 
that  there  was  nobody  with  her  and  not  any  per- 
son to  be  seen  in  the  street.  Softly  opening  the 
door  a little  way,  the  old  woman  caught  hold  of 
her  and  hurriedly  pulled  Leng  Tso  in,  and  at  once 
closed  and  barred  the  door. 

“ Do  you  know  where  my  husband’s  mother  and 
Ko  Chin  are?”  asked  Leng  Tso. 

“ No,”  answered  the  woman,  “ but  they  have  run 
away  probably,  as  all  the  rest  in  the  street  have 
done.  All  of  my  family  have  gone,  and  I do  not 
know  where.” 

Then  the  old  woman  told  her  that  a short  time 
before  a man  came  running  through  the  street 
calling  out,  “ Run ! run ! The  rebels  are  coming 
through  this  street  to  kill  every  one!”  and  every- 
body who  could  ran  away.  Some  locked  their 


288 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


doors,  and  others  did  not  even  take  time  to  shut 
them.  She  knew  that  she  was  too  lame  to  run,  and 
would  be  caught  and  killed  in  the  street ; so  if  she 
must  be  killed,  she  would  die  in  her  home.  Short- 
ly after  the  man  came  the  rebels  did  go  through 
the  street,  but  as  they  saw,  by  the  appearance  of 
the  houses,  that  the  people  had  run  away,  they 
hurried  on,  hai’dly  stopping  to  look  into  the  open 
doors.  AVhat  had  become  of  the  people  or  rebels 
she  did  not  know.  The  woman  told  Leng  Tso  not 
to  go  out  and  look  for  her  friends,  as  it  would  be 
impossible  to  find  them  and  she  might  be  caught 
by  the  rebels.  Perhaps  at  night  the  peojde  of  the 
street  who  had  hid  away  would  come  back  to  their 
homes,  and  her  mother-in-law  and  son  with  them. 

To  wait  seemed  the  best  thing  to  do ; and  through 
the  long  day  the  two  women  waited  and  hoped  and 
feared.  As  it  was  growing  dark  one  after  another 
of  the  people  came  back,  though  many  were  miss- 
ing. Some  were  prisoners  in  the  charge  of  rebel 
soldiers,  and  some  had  been  killed  as  they  tried 
to  escape.  Leng  Tso’s  child  and  mother-in-law  did 
not  come  back,  and  no  one  knew  where  they  were. 
Nor  had  anything  been  seen  or  heard  of  Ban. 

That  night  was  a long  and  terrible  one  to  Leng 
Tso.  She  did  not  sleep,  but  all  through  the  slow- 
moving  hours  she  waited  in  awful  suspense.  Every 
little  while  she  heard  footsteps  running  swiftly 
thi’ough  the  street,  and  then  would  hear  a blow,  as 
though  a club,  or  sometimes  a sword,  struck  some 


A LONELY  WANDERER. 


289 


human  form  ; a groan,  a scream  or  a brief  struggle 
followed  and  then  silence  again.  In  the  darkness 
many  tried  to  escape,  but  the  city  was  filled  with 
rebel  soldiers,  who  were  scattered  through  all  the 
streets  to  prevent  the  people  gathering  together  or 
attempting  to  escape. 

The  next  day  Leng  Tso  heard  nothing  of  her 
boy  or  of  her  husband  and  his  mother.  She  never 
saw  them  again,  she  never  heard  from  them  again. 
What  was  their  fate  she  never  learned,  nor  are  we 
able  to  tell.  Perhaps  her  child  was  adopted  by  some 
rebel,  and  when  the  Tai  Pings  were  driven  from 
the  city  he  was  able,  with  many  others,  to  escape. 
Ban  too  may  have  joined  them  and  escaped  at  last. 
They,  on  their  part,  may  have  supposed  that  Leng 
Tso  was  killed  with  the  many  thousands  who  per- 
ished. It  is  certain  that  she  never  knew  what 
became  of  them. 

During  those  months  of  horrors  Leng  Tso  re- 
mained in  the  city.  She  had  nowhere  else  to  go; 
this  was  her  only  home.  Yet  she  was  free.  No 
one  had  a right  to  buy  or  sell  her  again,  and  there 
was  no  one,  unless  rebels  hindered,  who  could  for- 
bid her  to  go  and  do  as  she  pleased.  Free  after 
nearly  forty  years  of  slavery!  But  what  cared 
she  for  freedom  now?  Her  family  had  been 
taken  from  her ; her  children  were  dead  or  pris- 
oners ; her  husband  was  missing.  And  Khiau  ? 
Though  for  years  she  had  not  seen  or  heard  from 
him,  yet  she  had  not  forgotten  him.  Though  only 

19 


290 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-GIRL. 


a Chinese  woman,  yet  Leng  Tso  was  a woman,  and 
a true  woman.  A true  woman’s  soul  is  the  same 
in  every  land,  be  she  a C|ueen  on  the  throne  or 
only  a slave  in  the  Chinese  rice-field.  Circum- 
stances may  change,  tastes  may  not  remain  the 
same,  but  death  only  can  change  the  love  of  a 
noble  soul. 

AVhen  the  rebel  rule  had  become  somewhat 
settled  in  the  city,  Leng  Tso’s  fears  gradually 
passed  away,  and  she  went  about  the  streets  again, 
hoping  to  learn  something  of  her  child  and  her 
husband.  Yet  the  timid  woman  dared  not  go 
near  the  government  buildings.  She  was  now  be- 
coming almost  an  old  woman,  and  by  Chinese 
customs,  was  allowed  to  go  as  she  chose  about  the 
streets ; yet  she  never  felt  safe.  The  rebels  were, 
every  day  capturing  and  killing  people  who  were 
supposed  to  be  enemies  of  the  Tai  Pings,  and  at 
any  time  she  might  be  taken ; though  of  this 
there  was  less  danger  for  her,  because,  as  she  was 
a large-footed  woman — that  is,  her  feet  had  never 
been  bound  to  make  them  small,  as  with  the 
better  class  of  Chinese  women — the  Tai  Pings 
would  think  her  poor  and  more  likely  to  be  their 
friend. 

Leng  Tso  had  many  to  sympathize  with  her  in 
her  loneliness.  There  were  others  who  had  lost 
husbands  and  children,  and  who  were  the  only  ones 
left  of  their  families.  But,  different  from  many, 
she  had  her  home  yet,  while  others  were  houseless. 


A LONELY  WANDERER. 


291 


Their  homes  had  been  pulled  down  or  burned  by 
the  rebels.  While  hers  remained  she  was  always 
ready  to  share  it  with  others,  and  many  a poor 
creature  thanked  the  kind  woman  for  a shelter 
and  for  food.  While  she  had  anything  none  whom 
she  could  help  need  want.  But  the  food  in  the 
house  did  not  last,  and  the  small  sum  of  money 
that  Ban  had  neglected  to  take  when  they  tried  to 
escape  was  soon  used,  and  Leng  Tso  herself  was  ■ 
reduced  almost  to  want. 

At  length  came  the  second  capture  of  the  city, 
and  the  Tai  Pings  were  driv'en  out.  Worse  deeds 
than  they  had  done  followed  their  defeat.  In  the 
two  captures  the  city  seemed  like  the  wheat  ground 
between  the  two  stones  of  the  mill ; and,  as  though 
once  crushing  between  them  was  not  enough,  to 
complete  the  work  of  destruction  the  stones  them- 
selves were  changed : the  lower  one,  that  had 
stood  still,  was  placed  above  and  driven  with  a 
fury  upon  the  other,  and  the  crushed  city  seemed 
ground  to  destruction. 

Through  all  Leng  Tso  lived ; but  when  the 
Tartars  again  ruled  and  peace  was  restored,  she 
too  was  homeless ; her  house  and  all  of  Ban’s 
property  were  destroyed.  Leng  Tso  was  a beggar 
now.  Many  whom  she  had  befriended  would 
gladly  have  cared  for  her  wants,  but,  like  her, 
they  too  wei'e  homeless,  they  too  were  starving ; 
while  the  vast  multitude  of  her  acquaintances  and 
friends  were  gone,  dead  beneath  the  ruins  of  their 


292 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-GIRL. 


liomes.  Though  poor,  she  was  strong  and  willing 
and  able  to  work. 

Some  time  after  the  rebels  had  been  driven  out 
of  the  city,  as  Leng  Tso  was  going  through  the 
streets  trying  to  get  something  to  do  to  keep  her 
from  starving,  she  came  in  front  of  a house  that 
was  entirely  ojien  to  the  street.  In  it,  sitting  on 
wooden  benches,  and  many  who  could  find  no  seats 
standing,  .she  saw  a large  crowd  of  men.  Back  in 
the  room  stood  a strangely-dressed  man ; he  Avas 
different  from  any  one  whom  Leng  Tso  had  ever 
seen.  She  thought  he  must  be  a foreigner.  She 
had  heard  people  say  that  foreign  men  sometimes 
entered  the  city.  As  she  came  up  this  man  was 
talking  or  reading,  she  did  not  know  which,  but 
he  stojiped  almost  immediately  and  sat  down,  .so 
that  she  was  unable  to  see  him.  As  soon  as  he 
was  seated  some  of  the  people  began  to  sing.  The 
singing  was  different  from  any  that  she  had  ever 
heard.  She  could  understand  only  a very  little 
of  it,  but  she  heard  the  words,  “ O-lo  Siong-te, 
kiu  lang”  (“Praise  Upper  Ruler” — i.  e.,  God — 
“ save  men  ”). 

The  singing  made  her  wonder  what  all  this 
meant.  It  was  a different  gathering  from  any 
she  had  ever  seen.  Could  it  be  that  these  people 
were  worshi2)ing  a foreign  god?  She  had  heard 
of  a temple  and  a few  })eople  in  the  city  who 
worshiped  some  foreign  god  in  it,  but  never  knew 
where  it  was,  nor  had  she  cared  enougli  to  ask  any- 


'•'■ng  Tso  iti  tlie  Mi.^sioi, 


^ ’Iiape]. 


J'age  292. 


u 


— tr  .' . 

\.  • r‘i4kpV 

r ■'  ofj 


*1 

f-*- 


* ^4 

'«»  -I* 

4!*/' 

^ ••  «4  ■■■ 


/^.v’liijiil^  'iim% 

...  SW'rfT' 


s/ 


Itr  n './:  if  ■ 

>■  ' 

•i(nr 

'it 

- V V _ |2j 

* 

'*4  4h 

1 f 4 t 

* ' ^^  r;4t 

'it. 

t S "‘'vJ 


A LONELY  WANDEREB. 


293 


tiling  about  the  god.  After  the  singing  the  for- 
eigner arose,  and,  reaching  out  his  hands  to  the 
people  said,  “ Ya  tai-ke,.lai  Id-to  Siong-te”  (“Now, 
great  family,  come  pray  to  the  Upper  Ruler”). 
While  the  man  was  praying  some  of  the  people 
near  him  bowed  their  heads,  but  others  looked 
around  to  see  what  was  going  on,  and  still  others 
near  the  street  were  talking.  Leng  Tso  crowded 
past  some  of  the  men  to  see  the  god — for  she  was 
sure  that  this  was  the  temple  of  which  she  had 
heard — but  could  see  no  idol  and  no  tablet.  The 
man  stood  up  and  was  praying  with  closed  eyes, 
but  to  no  idol  whatever.  He  spoke  her  own  lan- 
guage too,  and  she  could  understand  almost  every 
word.  How  difiPerent  the  prayer  was  from  any 
she  had  heard  offered  to  the  gods  of  China ! The 
man  seemed  to  know  the  Upper  Ruler,  and  spoke 
to  him  as  a friend.  But  he  did  not  so  much  pray 
for  good  things  to  eat  and  wear  as  that  people 
might  be  forgiven  and  learn  of  a Saviour. 

It  was  a strange  prayer  to  Leng  Tso.  When  it 
M'as  ended  the  people  sang  again  ; then  the  foreigner 
spoke  for  a long  time  to  them.  He  told  of  a city 
that,  like  the  Foo  city,  had  great  walls,  but  no 
enemies  could  capture  it ; no  fighting  was  ever  seen 
there;  no  dead  bodies  in  the  street;  no  ruined 
homes,  no  mourning  jDcople,  no  mothei’S  weeping 
for  their  lost  children.  Leng  Tso  could  not  keep 
back  the  tears  as  she  thought  of  her  own  lost  boys, 
and  she  thought,  if  she  only  could  have  gone  to 


294 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIEL. 


tliat  city  before  she  lost  her  chiklren,  she  might  still 
have  them.  But  now  that  they  were  gone  she  did 
not  care  to  go  to  the  place  of  which  the  man  spoke. 
After  a while  she  listened  again,  as  the  foreigner 
said  that  no  one  suffered,  none  were  hungry,  in 
that  city — none  were  sick,  none  died.  Then  he  said 
that  any  one  could  go  to  it  who  wished.  It  was 
the  city  of  the  Upper  Ruler,  who  had  invited  all  to 
it,  but  he  wante<l  no  had  people  in  it.  At  the  gates 
were  angels,  who  would  keep  out  all  who  were  not 
good ; none  were  good  enough  to  enter,  hut  the  Son 
of  the  Upjier  Ruler,  who  loved  jieople  as  his  Father 
did,  had  ]n’omised  to  prepare  every  one  for  this 
city  who  would  ask.  The  man,  as  he  closed,  told 
them  that  this  city  was  heaven,  and  the  Upper 
Ruler  was  the  great  Being  who  created  all  things, 
and  his  Son  is  the  Saviour  of  men.  To  reach 
heaven  they  must  ask  God,  the  U])per  Rulei’, 
and  not  idols,  to  forgive  their  sins,  to  helj)  them 
keep  from  sinning,  and  then  they  must  ask  this 
Saviour  of  men  to  take  them  to  the  good  city. 
They  must  trust  all  to  him,  believing  that  he  would 
certainly  do  it. 

This  Avas  strange  doctrine  to  Leng  Tso.  Was 
that  foreigner  telling  the  truth?  or  Avas  he  talking 
because  he  Avas  ]>aid  for  it?  She  wished  to  hear 
more  and  to  ask  him  furtlier  about  the  happy  city, 
but  Avhen  the  meeting  closed  all  the  people  around 
her  AA'ent  out;  only  those  near  the  speaker  stayed; 
so  she  thought  that  she  must  go  too.  She  de- 


A LONELY  WANDERER. 


295 


termined  to  go  to  that  place  again  the  next  day  and 
try  to  hear  more. 

The  next  day  she  went,  but  the  doors  were  shut. 
There  was  service  in  this  Christian  chapel — for  such 
it  was — every  day,  though  not  all  of  the  time.  The 
doors  were  closed  after  the  service  except  on  the 
Sabbath,  when  the  chapel  was  kept  open  all  the 
day.  It  was  Sunday  when  Leng  Tso  first  visited 
the  chapel.  For  several  days  she  went,  but  each 
time  before  or  after  the  service,  and  each  time  she 
found  the  place  shut.  She  longed  to  hear  more, 
and  longed  to  ask  that  foreigner  if  everybody  was 
bad.  She  did  not  think  that  she  was ; she  did  not 
know  when  she  had  done  what  was  not  right. 
True,  she  had  often  been  angry  with  her  mother-in- 
law  and  wished  her  dead,  and  so  too  of  Sek  So ; 
but  this  God  of  whom  the  man  told  did  not  know 
about  that.  She  had  not  done  anything  to  harm 
either  of  them,  and  the  God  probably  had  not  heard, 
or,  if  he  had,  must  long  ago  hav^e  forgotten,  the  un- 
kind things  said  about  them.  Yet  he  must  be  a 
great  God  if  he  made  the  world,  and  it  might  be 
that  he  knew  more  than  she  thought  he  did.  Then, 
too,  she  wished  to  understand  about  asking  this 
Saviour. 

One  day,  seven  days  after  she  had  heard  the  for- 
eign man  speak,  she  found  the  chapel  open  and  the 
people  singing.  There  was  no  foreigner  there,  and 
not  many  people  in  the  chapel.  A Chinaman  spoke. 
He  began  by  reading  from  a book  the  words  “ For 


296 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


God  so  loved  the  world.”  Then  he  stopped  and 
said : 

“ That  one  word  ‘ so  ’ is  a small  word,  but  it  is  a 
full  word.  The  gates  of  this  city  are  small,  but 
had  they  been  kept  shut  how  different  would  the 
Foo  city  have  been  to-day!  Great  things  come 
from  small,  and  the  greatest  thing  the  world  has 
ever  known  comes  from  this  small  word.  God  so 
loved  the  world.  How?  The  rest  tells  us : ‘That 
he  gave  his  only-begotten  Son.’  Can  we  tell  how 
much  he  loved?  You  love  your  boy — how  much? 
What  would  you  sell  him  for?  Would  you  give 
him  to  save  somebody?  What!  give  your  own 
son  for  some  one’s  life?  You  would  lose  your  son 
then.  What  if  that  some  one  were  a stranger? 
Would  you  do  it  then?  If  it  were  an  enemy, 
would  you  do  it?  Wliat!  your  own  son  for  an 
enemy’s  life?  Xo,  never ! But  God  did.  That  is 
the  way  he  loved  the  world. 

“Suppose  our  own  exalted  and  noble  emperor 
had  said,  when  the  long-haired  men  were  in  the 
city,  ‘I  love  those  rebels.  They  are  very  bad — 
they  should  be  punisl>ed;  but  I love  them  so  much 
that  I want  to  save  them.  They  have  broken  my 
laws  and  all  ought  to  die;  somebody  must  die.  I 
love  them  so  much  that  I will  give  my  own  son  to 
die  for  them.  If  he  had  given  his  son  to  die  for 
rebels,  vdiat  would  you  have  thought  of  the  em- 
jieror’s  love?  You  would  have  said,  ‘He  so  loved 
the  rebels  that  he  gave  his  own  son  to  die  for  them.’ 


A LONELY  WANDERER. 


297 


So  loved!  You  could  not  tell  how  much  that  ‘so’ 
M’as  unless  you  were  the  emperor  yourself.  Thus 
we  cannot  tell  how  much  God  loved  when  he  so 
loved.” 

Then  the  speaker  explained  why  some  one  must 
die  for  men — that  all  were  sinners. 

“Sinners,”  said  he,  “and  you  do  not  know  it. 
So  men  sick  and  delirious  with  fever  do  not  know 
that  they  are  sick.  But  they  need  medicine;  so 
do  you.  Jesus  came  to  bring  it  down  from  heav- 
en. It  is  the  medicine  of  faith — giving  yourself 
into  the  hands  of  Jesus.  Ask  him  for  the  med- 
icine, and  he  will  give  it;  then  you  will  be 
saved. 

“ But  you  say,  ‘ I don’t  feel  that  I am  a sinner.’ 
So  the  man  with  a fever  does  not  feel  sick  when 
he  is  delirious,  but  he  knows  that  he  was  when  the 
delirium  is  gone ; then  he  is  getting  better.  So  when 
you  begin  to  feel  yourselves  sinners  it  is  a good 
sign.  You  must  ask  God  to  show  you  that  you  are 
sinners ; then,  to  sh.ow  you  how  to  trust  in  Jesus ; 
then  trust  in  him  all  the  time  and  keep  from  sin- 
ning, and  you  shall  be  saved.  It  is  the  easiest 
way  of  being  saved  that  there  can  be,  for  God 
made  it.  He  made  it  so  for  people  like  us,  and 
for  everybody  who  cannot  do  much.  And  that 
too  shows  how  God  so  loved,  not  some  people,  but 
the  world — everybody  ; so  he  made  a way  for  eveiy- 
body  to  be  saved.  But  all  must  believe,  and  he 
even  helj)s  them  to  do  that.” 


298 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


In  this  simple  way  did  the  unlearned  man  preach 
the  gospel. 

Lcng  Tso  listened  to  every  word.  Some  of  it 
she  believed  and  some  she  did  not  understand, 
while  she  thought  some  things  were  not  true. 
How  could  this  unlearned  man  know  so  much  about 
God  ? But  that  was  new — and  oh  so  different 
from  anything  that  she  had  ever  heard ! — about  a 
God  really  loving  men,  and  loving  them,  too,  so 
much.  It  was  just  the  thing  she  had  often  longed 
to  know — if  there  were  any  god  who  loved,  really 
loved,  people.  This  one  did — that  is,  the  man 
said  he  did.  It  must  bo  true,  if  God  had  sent 
his  Son  to  die'  for  men.  Would  she  have  given 
one  of  her  boys  to  die  for  anybody  ? No,  not  to 
save  a world  ! How  much  God  must  love  if  what 
the  man  said  were  true ! 

After  the  meeting  closed  the  speaker  invited  all 
who  wished  to  hear  more  about  God’s  love,  or  who 
wished  to  know  how  to  be  saved,  to  stay  and  talk 
with  him.  Leng  Tso  was  glad  to  stay.  Her  first 
question  was : 

“ How  do  you  know  that  the  story  about  God’s 
love  is  true?  Who  told  you?” 

The-  man  told  her  of  God’s  book,  the  Bible, 
and  read  some  from  it,  for  he  saw  that  she  knew 
very  little  about  the  gosi)el.  Then  he  said, 

“ If  any  one  tells  you  about  a thing,  and  you 
try  it  and  find  each  fact  as  he  told  you,  do  you  not 
believe  he  told  the  truth  ? So  it  is  with  the  Bible. 


A LONELY  WANDERER. 


299 


I have  tried  it,  and  find  it  tells  me  the  truth,  as 
far  as  I can  feel  and  understand ; so  I believe  it. 
If  yon  will  try,  yon  will  find  that  it  is  true.” 

“ But  I cannot  read,”  said  Leng  Tso. 

“ Yet  you  can  hear  it  read,  and  you  can  try  that.” 
“ Am  I too  old  to  learn  to  read  ?”  she  asked. 

“ No ; some  who  are  much  older  than  you  have 
learned.”  * 

“ But  where  can  I learn  ? Can  I learn  here?” 

“ Yes ; we  have  a school,  and  you  may  come.” 

“ I am  poor,  and  cannot  pay.” 

“ We  do  not  charge  any  pay,  nor  do  we  want 
any  money  for  it.” 

“ No  money  for  what  you  do ! Why  do  you  do 
it,  then?  Who  pays?” 

“ People  in  foreign  countries  whom  God  has 
taught  to  love  others  as  he  loved  the  world  give 
tlie  money  to  pay.” 

“Then  those  people  believe  that  we  need  this 
doctrine?  They  must  believe  it  themselves  if, they 
give  money  to  send  it  to  others.  It  is  a good  doc- 
trine if  it  makes  peojjle  do  so.” 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


THE  STRUGGLE  AND  THE  VICTORY. 

After  talking  with  the  preacher  the  lonely 
woman  felt  more  happy  than  for  months 
pa.st.  The  thought  that  there  was  a God  who 
loved  her,  and  loved  her  so  much,  was  wonder- 
ful ; she  could  not  think  of  it  enough.  And  then, 
too,  the  love  of  Jesus — how  great  it  was ! To  die 
for  sinners — sinners  who  did  not  love  him,  sinners 
who  could  pay  nothing  back ! — was  there  ever 
such  love  ? He  must  be  God  ; no  man  could  love 
so  much,  and  love  every  one  with  such  love.  From 
the  lov'e  of  God  she  began  to  think  of  the  sinners 
to  whom  that  love  was  shown.  If  it  took  so  much 
to  save  men,  how  utterly  lost  they  must  have  been  ! 
What  sinners ! 

But,”  said  she,  “ I am  one.  I must  be  one  if 
Jesus  died  for  me.  A sinner?  What  sins  have 
I ? When  have  I been  bad  ?” 

The  Chinese  are  not  taught,  except  as  the  gos- 
pel teaches  them,  that  they  are  sinnei’s.  They 
hardly  ever  think  that  they  do  any  wrong  against 
the  gods,  and,  as  they  know  nothing  of  the  true 
God,  cannot  know,  until  taught  of  him,  that  they 

300 


THE  STRUGGLE  AND  VICTORY. 


301 


have  sinned  against  God.  They  know  that  there 
is  a right  and  a wrong ; yet  so  little  is  said  even 
of  these  in  China  that  the  people  do  not  think 
much  about  either,  except  when  right  or  wrong 
doing  affects  them. 

It  is  not  strange  that  Leng  Tso  did  not  at  first 
consider  herself  a sinner.  Like  men  walking  in 
the  dark,  upon  whose  path  a light  flashes  suddenly, 
showing  that  they  are  on  the  edge  of  a precipice,  so 
people  sometimes  are  startled  suddenly  as  by  the 
gospel  light  they  see  themselves  near  destruction. 
The  light  does  not  make — it  only  shows — the  dan- 
ger; so  the  gospel  only  shows  the  people  their 
danger  and  the  way  of  safety.  If  some  are  sud- 
denly aroused,  others  are  slowly  awakened ; as  by 
the  dawning  of  daylight  the  danger  is  seen,  so  the 
gospel  truth  gradually  shows  to  some  what  sinners 
they  are,  how  great  their  danger  is,  and  wliere  they 
may  find  salvation. 

Thus  it  was  with  Leng  Tso.  She  could  not  un- 
derstand that  she  had  been  a great  sinner.  True, 
she  had  hated  her  mother-in-law  and  wished  her 
dead — so  too  of  Sek  So ; yet  almost  every  one 
would  have  done  the  same.  She  had  good  reason 
for  hating.  But  God  must  have  known  that  she 
was  a sinner,  had  done  many  wicked  things,  or  he 
would  not  have  sent  his  Son  -to  die  for  her.  Then 
she  remembered  that  the  missionary  had  said  tliat 
God  wished  every  one  to  be  pure.  Had  she  been 
pure?  No;  she  had  not  been  pure.  She  had  in 


302 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


anger  spoken  many  impure  words,  had  harbored 
many  such  thoughts.  Yes,  she  was  a sinner. 
AVorshij^ing  idols — that  was  sin.  Telling  untruths, 
trying  to  cheat,  were  sins.  How  many  of  these  sins 
she  could  remember ! 

As,  when  we  approach  a cemetery,  first  the  larger 
monuments  arc  seen,  then  the  smaller  and  the 
smaller  still,  until  the  lowest  stone  becomes  visible, 
making  us  to  realize  the  multitude  of  the  dead,  so 
was  it  with  Leng  Tso  as  she  looked  over  her  buried 
sins.  One  by  one  the  greater  sins,  then  the  lesser 
and  the  lesser  still  (as  they  appeared  to  her),  came 
crowding  in  upon  her  memory,  until  her  past  life 
seemed  like  a vast  cemetery  of  buried  deeds. 

How  she  wished  that  she  might  live  her  life  over 
again  ! how  she  wished  those  sins  were  blotted  out ! 
The  more  she  thought  of  them,  the  greater  did  they 
appear  and  the  larger  their  number.  She  began  to 
pray, ‘‘God  be  merciful  to  me  a sinner!”  Every 
evening  she  met  with  those  who  gathered  for  wor- 
ship in  the  chapel,  and  no  heart  prayed  moi-e  earn- 
estly for  pardon  than  did  hers.  She  talked  with 
the  preacher  and  with  other  Christians,  trying  to 
find  the  way  to  be  forgiven.  Each  one  told  her  to 
trust  in  Jesus,  but  she  could  not  understand  what 
this  meant.  She  did  not  know  how  to  do  it. 
AVhen  they  told  her  about  faith,  she  wished  that 
they  would  make  plain  to  her  what  faith  is.  No 
explanations  seemed  to  help  her.  Oh,  that  one 
word ! If  she  could  know  what  it  meant,  then 


THE  STRUGGLE  AND  VICTORY. 


303 


there  would  be  hope  and  light.  When  told  that 
she  must  go  to  Jesus  Christ,  she  said, 

“How  can  I get  to  him?  It  seems  as  though 
between  him  and  me  there  is  a great  wall  that 
hides  him  from  me — will  not  let  me  go  to  him,  or 
even  allow  my  voice  to  reach  him.  If  I could  see 
Jesus  once,  I would  throw  myself  at  his  feet,  and 
perhaps  he  would  listen — perhaps  would  pardon 
and  save  even  such  a sinner  as  I am.” 

So  great  became  her  distress  that  she  could  think 
of  nothing  else.  She  hardly  worked  or  ate.  At 
every  meeting  she  hoped  to  find  light  or  hear  some- 
thing that  would  help  her  understand  what  it  is 
kO  believe  in  Jesus.  It  was  said  that  one  of  the 
foreign  missionaries  would  spend  a Sabbath  at  the 
chapel,  and  hold  an  inquiry-meeting  before  he  ad- 
ministered the  Lord’s  Supper.  To  that  day  Leng 
Tso  looked  eagerly  forward,  and  when  it  came,  and 
with  it  the  missionary  and  the  inquiry-meeting,  she 
felt  that  this  was  her  time. 

It  must  be  noted  that  Leng  Tso  trusted  in  the 
day  and  the  place,  as  well  as  in  the  missionary, 
instead  of  going  to  the  Saviour  for  relief. 

When  que.stions  were  asked  she  felt  afraid  to 
answer,  often  gave  replies  that  she  knew  were  not 
right,  and  sometimes  could  say  nothing  at  all.  The 
missionary  thought  that  she  knew  very  little  about 
the  gospel,  and  tried  to  exjilain  to  her  what  she  had 
often  heard  already.  But  the  one  thing  that  she 
wanted  to  know  he  did  not  explain.  How  she 


304 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


■wished  to  ask  him  what  faith  is  ! but  she  could  not 
make  her  lips  say  the  words,  until,  just  as  the  meet- 
ing was  closing,  she  said  in  a low  voice, 

“ Sian-si,  sin  si  sim-mih  f*  (“  Teacher,  faith  is 
what  ?”) 

He  did  not  understand  her  meaning,  and  sup- 
posed that  she  wished  to  know  something  about 
faith,  and  not  that  she  was  anxious  to  know  just 
how  to  throw  herself  on  Christ’s  mercy  and  love. 
In  a few  words  he  told  her  about  Jesus  dying  for 
sinners,  and  that  to  be  saved  they  must  trust  in 
him,  and  in  nothing  else,  for  salvation.  All  that 
he  told  her  she  had  known  before,  but  he  did  not 
tell  how  she  must  trust — did  not  so  explain  it  that 
she  could  understand  just  what  and  how  she  must 
do  to  believe  in  Jesus. 

The  meeting  closed,  the  day  ended,  the  missionary 
left  the  city,  and  Leng  Tso  did  not  yet  know  how 
to  trust  in  the  Saviour.  Tlie  trouble  of  her  heart 
had  really  been  made  greater  by  the  missionary’s 
visit.  Was  he  too  unable  to  explain  faith  to  her  ? 
she  asked  herself.  If  she  could  not  learn  from 
such  a wise  teacher  the  way  to  Jesus,  then  her  case 
seemed  hopeless.  Perhaps  her  sins  were  too  great? 
Perhaps  it  was  not  meant  that  she  should  be  saved  ? 
For  this  reason  God  would  not  let  her  understand 
what  it  is  to  trust  in  a Saviour.  Or  it  might  be 
that  Jesus  had  forgotten  her  when  he  died  for  the 
world.  It  would  not  have  been  strange  if  he  had 
forgotten  many  thousands,  as  there  were  so  many  to 


THE  STRUGGLE  AND  VICTORY. 


305 


tliink  about ; it  was  wonderful,  rather,  that  he 
loved  and  thought  of  so  many.  Tliat  she,  the 
slave-girl,  the  poor  widow,  should  have  been  passed 
by  was  very  natural.  What  was  she,  that  Jesus 
should  think  of  her?  Perhaps  because  she  had 
been  forgotten  the  way  to  Jesus  was  thus  kept 
closed,  lest,  seeing  him,  she  should  love  him  so 
much ; and  then  the  disappointment  at  not  being 
saved  would  be  all  the  greater. 

As  this  thought  came  to  her  mind  she  said, 

“ God  is  good  even  in  that.  How  good  he  is ! 
How  good  to  save  so  many,  even  though  one  poor 
worthless  sinner  is  left  to  perish  ! One  only?  No; 
ten  thousand.  But  does  God  leave  them,  or  the)' 
refuse  him?  are  unwilling.” 

Suddenly  came  to  her  mind  tlie  thought,  “ If 
God  is  more  willing  to  save  than  they  are  to  let 
him  save,  can  it  be  that  he  will  refuse  any  who 
Ijray  to  be  saved?”  No,  she  could  not  believe 
that. 

In  this  way  she  reasoned  with  herself.  Yet  the 
one  great  difficulty  remained : she  did  not  under- 
stand how  to  give  herself  to  the  Saviour  for  par- 
don and  salvation.  Perhaps  it  would  be  as  true 
to  say  she  did  not  try  to  give  all  into  the  Saviour’s 
care.  She  had  some  faith,  but  did  not  use  it,  and 
her  faith  remained  weak.  Faith,  like  other  powers 
that  we  have,  grows  stronger  by  using.  Had  she 
left  her  soul,  with  all  its  sins,  in  the  hands  of  the 
Saviour,  with  the  feeling  that  only  he  could  save, 
20 


306 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-OIRL. 


only  he  could  forgive,  and  then  prayed  him  to 
keep  his  promise,  Long  Tso  would  have  found 
that  Jesus  received  and  saved  her. 

Friends  were  deeply  interested  in  her,  and  often 
was  the  question  asked  by  Ciiristians,  “ Has  Ban 
Chilli  trusted  in  Jesus  yet?”  Each  one  tried  to 
explain  her  or  his  own  difficulty  by  telling  the 
experience  of  self.  Instead  of  helping  her,  this 
increased  the  trouble,  for  she  then  tried  to  think 
and  feel  just  as  each  one  said  he  or  she  did.  Hers 
was  really  a singular  case,  yet  not  entirely  differ- 
ent from  any  other.  The  author  baptized  one 
woman  in  China  who  had  for  eleven  years  been  an 
inquirer. 

Instead  of  feeling  the  burden  of  her  sin  less, 
Leng  Tso  was  more  troubled  by  it  the  longer  she 
prayed  and  hoped.  Sometimes  she  felt  that  she 
could  not  endure  it  any  longer,  and  told  a friend 
one  day, 

“ I cannot  bear  this  burden  of  sin  any  more.” 

‘‘  Why  do  you  try  ?”  asked  the  woman.  “ Do 
you  think  that  you  can  do  it  better  than  Jesus? 
It  is  his  work,  and  you  are  taking  it  away  from 
him.” 

“But  it  is  fast  to  me,  and  I cannot  get  to  Jesus 
to  let  him  take  it.  I am  like  a poor  old  slav^e- 
woman  standing  at  tlie,  bottom  of  a long  steep, 
slippery  hill,  and  up  that  hill  I must  carry  a load 
that  is  almost  breaking  my  back.  On  the  top 
stands  One  who  can  hike  away  the  burden,  and 


THE  STRUGGLE  AND  VICTORY.  307 

a path  leads  to  him,  but  the  way  is  dark  and  I 
cannot  find  the  road.” 

“You  are  wrong,”  said  the  woman;  “Jesus  is 
not  on  the  hill.” 

“ Where  is  he,  then  ?”  asked  Leng  Tso.  “ It 
seems  to  me  that  he  is  there.” 

“No,”  answered  the  other;  Jesus  is  beliind 
you,  and  you  are  turning  your  back  on  him. 
You  a,re  trying  to  do  what  you  cannot,  and  so 
are  going  away  from  Jesus.” 

“ Is  that  true  ? Have  I been  unable  to  see  him 
and  to  get  rid  of  my  burden  because  I turn  away 
from  him?”  asked  Leng  Tso  as  the  light  began  to 
break  upon  her  mind. 

“Yes;  you  cannot  climb  the  hill  with  your 
load.  Jesus  is  behind  you  to  take  it  off.  You 
need  not  go  to  Jesus.  He  is  near  you,  and  wait- 
ing to  hear  you  say,  ‘ Here,  Lord ! take  the  burden  • 

I cannot  carry  it.  I can  do  nothing;  do  all  for 

me.’  Why  not  let  him,  now ? That  is  faith ; that 
is  trusting  him.” 

“ Is  it  so  easy  as  that?  And  is  that  all  I must 
do?” 

“Yes,  all.  What  more  can  you  do^” 

“Nothing.  But  I have  tried  to  do  mud,. 

dlicn  I need  not  climb  the  hill  at  all  to  find 

Jesus?” 

“No.  Why  should  you,  when  Jesus  has  come 
down  to  find  you?” 

“I  see  it  now!  I .see  it  now!  Why  did  I not 


308 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE^GIRL. 


know  tliis  before?  Shall  we  pray,  and  I let  Jesus 
take  the  burden  right  off?” 

The  two  women  kneeled  in  j)rayer.  Each  one 
prayed ; and  as  her  friend  was  asking  that  all  the 
burden  might  be  taken  away,  Leng  Tso  could  not 
help  whispering  to  her  joyfully, 

“ He  is  doing  it ! I let  him.” 

A hajjpy  woman  was  Leng  Tso  when  she  arose 
from  her  knees.  She  felt  so  light-hearted  that  she 
could  not  help  putting  her  hands  again  and  again 
to  her  shoulders,  as  if  to  make  sure  that  no  burden 
was  there. 

“ It  seems,”  said  she,  “ as  though  I had  been  a 
slave  in  chains  all  my  life,  and  at  once  I am  set 
free  and  all  my  chains  gone.  It  is  as  though  the 
sun  suddenly  shone  overhead  at  midnight.” 

The  long  struggle  was  over,  and  Leng  Tso  was 
happy.  She  knew  now  that  Jesus  loved  her,  that 
he  had  died  for  her,  and  tliat  her  sins  were  for- 
given. The  loneliness  had  almost  gone,  and  the 
longing  for  her  children  and  her  friends  was  partly 
swallowed  up  in  the  great  joy  of  having  found  Jesus 
as  her  Saviour.  Everything  was  bright  now.  She 
could  walk  through  the  deserted  streets  of  the  city, 
and  even  visit  the  ruins  of  her  old  home,  and  yet 
find  something  to  give  her  joy.  She  wished  to  tell 
every  one  whom  she  saw  how  happy  she  was,  that 
God  loved  her,  that  Jesus  had  died  for  her  and  had 
made  her  his  own. 

Leng  Tso  was  not  satisfied  with  being  a Chris- 


THE  STRUGGLE  AND  VICTORY. 


309 


tian  herself : she  was  anxious  that  everybody  whom 
she  knew  should  love  Christ  too.  Had  she  dared, 
she  would  gladly  have  gone  into  the  streets  and 
gathered  the  people  together  to  tell  them  of  the 
Saviour’s  love ; but  this  she  knew  would  be  very 
improper,  according  to  Chinese  ideas.  She  could 
not  be  idle ; so  she  %vent  to  the  homes  of  her  friends 
and  spent  many  an  hour,  when  not  obliged  to  work, 
in  talking  to  them  of  the  love  of  Jesus  and  the  way 
to  be  saved.  Some  listened  and  others  turned  the 
conversation  to  other  things,  while  a few  said  that 
they  did  not  care  to  hear  about  a foreign  religion  ; 
their  own  was  good  enough ; besides,  it  was  not 
right  to  give  up  the  religion  of  their  fathers. 

She  tried  to  get  her  friends  to  go  with  her  to  the 
chapel,  and  not  a few  women  were  thus  led  to  hear 
the  truth  preached,  and  some  to  believe  it.  This 
chapel,  like  many  of  the  Christian  churches  in 
Southern  China,  had  a small  space  for  women  back 
and  on  either  side  of  the  preacher,  divided  oflF  by 
a board  partition,  with  a movable  curtain  at  the  top 
just  high  enough  to  hide  them  from  the  men  in  the 
audience,  but  not  too  high  to  hinder  their  seeing: 
the  preacher,  who  stood  on  a raised  platform.  Into 
this  place  Leng  Tso  not  only  invited  women  to  come 
and  hear  the  truth,  but  here  she  would  sit  and  talk 
with  them  about  their  souls. 

Since  Leng  Tso  began  to  learn  to  read  she  kept 
trying  in  the  hope  that  she  would  be  able  to  peruse 
the  Bible  for  herself.  She  learned  very  slowly. 


310 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


The  written  language  of  China  is  very  hard,  and, 
as  Long  Tso  was  over  forty  years  old,  she  found  it 
all  the  more  difficult  to  reineml)er  the  strange-ap- 
pearing  words  as  well  as  their  different  meanings. 
After  months  of  study  she  was  delighted  to  find 
that  she  could  read  the  third  chapter  of  John  with- 
out missing  a word.  Every  day  she  read  it  over 
and  over  again  to  make  sure  of  the  whole  chapter, 
so  that  she  would  not  forget  a single  word.  In 
time  this  was  called  “Ban  Chim’s  chapter”  by  the 
Christians  in  the  chapel,  because  she  always  read 
this  when  asked  to  read  the  Bible. 

When  Leng  Tso  was  married  she  took  the  name 
of  her  husband.  Ban,  and  was  called  Ban  So ; after 
he  was  lost,  and  as  she  became  older,  she  was  called 
Ban  Chim.  To  us  let  her  remain  Leng  Tso. 

When  she  was  able  to  read  this  chapter  well  she 
always  took  her  New  Testament  with  her  if  she 
visited  her  friends,  and  usually  read  this  part  to 
those  who  could  not  read  for  themselves.  One 
chapter  learned,  and  the  next  came  easier ; in  time 
she  was  able  to  read  much  in  the  Gospels. 

Soon  after  she  began  to  attend  the  chapel-wor- 
ship, and  long  before  she  became  a Christian  Leng 
Tso  had  learned  to  sing,  and  in  this  she  took  great 
delight.  There  are  people  in  Christian  countries 
who  can  sing  more  melodiously  than  she  did,  but 
not  many  who  enjoy  singing  more  or  join  in  it  more 
heartily.  People  who  did  not  wish  to  hear  her  read 
the  Bible  or  talk  about  the  new  religion  were  always 


THE  STRUGGLE  AND  VICTORY. 


311 


ready  to  hear  her  sing.  Sometimes  through  the 
hymn  tliey  heard  the  gos))el,  when  had  it  been 
spoken  they  would  not  have  listened  to  it  at  all. 

Leng  Tso  had  found  no  trouble  in  securing  work 
after  people  knew  her.  She  always  did  her  work 
well,  as  she  said,  to  let  people  know  that  it  did  not 
hurt  any  one  to  become  a Christian.  She  said  that 
a Christian  ought  to  do  work  better  than  others,  not 
only  because  he  had  two  masters  to  suit,  but  because 
Jesus  helped  do  it.  Poor  work  done  by  a Chris- 
tian did  not  speak  well  for  the  Lord  who  helped. 
As  she  had  no  one  but  herself  to  support,  she  did 
not  need  work  all  the  time,  and  many  leisure  hours 
were  spent  by  the  sick  bed  of  some  poor  woman, 
preparing  little  dainties  or  nursing  the  invalid,  and 
at  the  same  time  comforting  the  sick  and  giving  the 
medicine  of  the  soul,  as  she  called  the  Scriptures. 

Once,  as  she  was  attending  a poor  woman  who 
had  been  a few  times  with  her  to  the  chapel,  but 
was  not  much  interested  in  the  doctrine,  the  woman 
asked, 

“Ban  Chim,  why  are  yon  always  so  happy? 
Yon  do  not  scold  and  fret  as  many  do,  but  act  as 
though  you  had  always  had  sunshine.” 

“ There  is  a sun  in  my  heart,”  said  Leng  Tso, 
“that  never  goes  down.  If  all  is  dark  outside, 
there  is  light  within ; and  I live  in  that  light.” 
“ I wish  it  were  so  with  me,”  said  the  woman. 
“ It  is  rainy  season  with  me  all  the  time.  If  the 
sun  is  not  down,  it  is  always  behind  a cloud.” 


312 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


“In  the  rainy  season,”  replied  Long  Tso,  “the 
sun  is  shining  just  as  brightly  beyond  the  clouds  as 
if  there  never  had  been  a cloud  ; so,  if  you  wish 
to  have  sunshine  always,  you  must  get  above  the 
clouds.” 

“ How  can  I ?”  inquired  Lat  So,  the  woman. 

Leng  Tso  rej)lied, 

“When  my  little  boys  were  with  me,  they  often 
wished  to  be  higher  up  that  they  might  look  farther 
away  and  see  more;  so  their  father  would  lift  them 
up  in  his  arms.  That  is  the  way  it  is  with  you : 
you  are  down  too  low ; you  mast  ask  God,  who  is 
the  great  heavenly  Father,  to  take  you  up  in  his 
arms.  When  he  holds  you  up  above  the  world 
you  will  .sec  that  the  sun  is  always  shining.” 

“ That  is  foreign  doctrine,  and  not  of  the  Mid- 
dle Kingdom,”  replied  Lat  So. 

“True,”  said  the  other;  “but  if  it  make  the 
heart  happy,  what  matters  it  if  it  be  foreign  doc- 
trine? Ours  are  Middle-Kingdom  hearts,  and  it 
just  .suits  them.  It  could  not  suit  better  if  it  were 
made  for  them.” 

“Do  you  think  that  it  will  always  make  you 
happy?  Will  it  not  become  old  and  wear  out 
some  time  ?” 

“ No.  There  is  something  new  in  it  every  day, 
and  I am  becoming  more  and  more  happy.” 

“ But  you  hav^e  not  had  so  many  troubles  as  I 
have.  It  is  ea.sy  for  you,  who  have  nothing  to 
trouble  you,  to  be  happy.” 


THE  STRUGGLE  AND  VICTORY. 


313 


“ I no  trouble !”  cried  Leng  Tso.  “ I have  had 
many.  ISIy  heart  is  all  seared  and  sore  with  trou- 
bles; some  of  them  will  never  heal.  When  a 
child  I was  sold  as  a slave-girl  to  a very  cruel 
master.  A kind  man  wished  to  buy  me  for  a wife 
for  his  sou ; that  son  was  a noble  young  man.  To 
earn  money  to  set  me  free  and  make  me  his  wife 
he  went  to  a foreign  country  ; before  he  came  back 
my  master,  in  a fit  of  anger,  sold  me  to  be  the 
second  wife  of  an  opium-smoker.  He  would  not 
sell  me  to  be  the  wife  of  the  good  young  man,  be- 
cause my  master  hated  him.  The  wife  of  the  man 
whose  second  wife  I became  beat  and  abused  me ; 
she  took  my  child  away  from  me,  made  it  her  own 
and  tried  to  make  it  hate  me.  When,  at  last,  our 
husband  had  wasted  his  })roperty,  he  killed  himself. 
I was  sold  to  another  man ; my  boy  was  taken 
from  me,  and  I never  saw  him  again.  I became 
the  wife  of  the  man  who  bought  me.  Of  the  four 
children  born  to  us,  one  died,  another  was  given 
away  by  its  father  and  grandmother,  my  oldest 
sou  was  stolen  from  his  father,  and  my  last  boy, 
his  grandmother  and  my  husband  were  lost  or 
taken  prisoners  by  the  rebels  in  the  capture  of  the 
city.  My  home  was  burned,  and  all  my  husband’s 
property  destroyed  or  taken  away  when  the  gov- 
ernment soldiers  captured  the  city  from  the  I’ebels; 
and  now  I,  who  only  a short  time  ago  had  a family 
and  was  rich,  am  all  alone  in  the  world,  and,  if  I 
had  no  strength  to  work,  would  be  a beggar.” 


314 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


“ Plave  you  suffered  all  that?”  said  Lat  So; 
‘‘  and  yet  you  are  happy ! I never  suffered  one- 
tenth  as  much,  and  yet  I am  miserable.” 

“ Yes ; I am  happy,  because  God  has  made  me 
his  child,  and  because  he  has  promised  me  ten 
thousand  times  more  than  I ever  had.  I would 
rather  know  and  feel  that  Jesus  loves  me  than  to 
have  all  the  riches  and  good  things  that  this  world 
can  give.” 

“ Is  it  the  foreign  religion  that  does  this  ?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Will  it  do  the  same  for  everybody — for  me  ?” 
“Yes,  for  everybody — for  you.  Jesus  will  love 
Lat  So  just  as  much  as  he  loves  any  one.” 
“How  can  I get  this  happiness  and  good?” 

“ By  asking  Jesus  for  it.” 

“ But  how  can  I ]>ay  ? I am  poor,  and  have 
nothing  to  give.  To  get  favors  of  our  gods  we 
must  pay  something  or  make  some  presents.” 
“Jesus  does  not  want  anything.  It  is  all  free.” 
“Free!  Who  pays,  then?  People  always  ex- 
pect something  for  what  they  do,  and  we  are  taught 
that  the  gods  are  the  same.” 

“ The  great  God  is  not  like  the  idols  of  the  Mid- 
dle Kingdom.  They  are  not  gods;  there  is  only 
one  God.  What  he  does  is  all  free:  just  as  the 
water  we  drink  is  free,  only  we  must  go  to  the 
wells  or  to  the  river  and  get  it,  so  you  must  go 
to  Jesus  and  ask,  and  he  has  said  that  ‘ every  one 
that  asketh,  receiveth.’” 


THE  STRUGGLE  AND  VICTORY.  315 


“ This  is  strange.  I do  not  understand.” 

“ Let  me  tell  you  : Jesus  Christ,  God’s  Son,  paid 
the  price,  because  it  was  too  great  for  us  to  pay. 
And  that  is  the  reason  it  is  all  free : the  price  has 
been  paid  already.” 

“ I thought  that  some  one  must  pay.  But  why 
did  he  do  it?  What  does  he  get  back?” 

“Nothing.  He  did  it  because  he  loves  men. 
and  all  he  asks  is  that  they  love  and  serve  him. 
He  even  helps  them  do  that,  and  then  he  pays 
them  for  doing  it.” 

“Pays!  How?  What  does  he  give?  What 
has  he  given  you  ?” 

“ He  makes  me  happy,  and  promises  to  take 
me  to  his  home  when  I die,  and  share  with  me 
all  that  he  has.” 

“ How  do  you  know  that  he  will  keep  his 
promise  ?” 

“ He  has  kept  all  his  promises  thus  far,  and  is 
always  better  than  he  says ; so  I know  that  I can 
trust  him.” 

“You  say  he  loves  men;  does  he  love  me?  I 
am  not  good,  and  am  not  worth  much.” 

“ Yes.  Listen,  and  I will  read  what  he  says 
and  Leng  Tso  slowly  read  the  third  chapter  of 
John  until  she  came  to  the  sixteenth  verse. 
“There!”  said  she;  “‘loved  the  world;’  that 
means  all  who  are  in  it;  that  means  you.” 

“ Yes ; but  it  says  ‘ God  loved  the  world,’  not 
that  Jesus  did.” 


316 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-GIRL. 


“Jesus  says  in  anotlier  place  that  he  is  God. 
But  do  you  think  that  Jesus  would  have  come 
into  the  world  and  died  for  men  had  he  not  loved 
them  ? Would  he  have  said  thase  words  if  he 
did  not  love  the  world?” 

“ It  must  be  so.  He  does  love  the  world  j then 
he  loves  me.  This  is  wonderful ! wonderful ! Do 
not  talk  to  me ; let  me  think  about  it. — Jesus  loves 
me,”  sjvid  she  to  herself — “ loves  me ; and  he  knows 
that  I am  poor  and  bad,  and  yet  loves  me ! Won- 
derful ! wonderful !” 

In  such  ways  did  Leng  Tso  try  to  win  souls  to 
Christ.  Sometimes  when  she  was  really  in  need 
of  money  she  neglected  to  get  work  in  order  that 
she  might  cai'e  for  some  sick  one  or  tell  somebody 
of  a Saviour. 

Though  a Christian,  Leng  Tso  was  not  a mem- 
ber of  the  Church.  The  preacher  in  charge  of  the 
cha2)el  at  the  Foo  city  was  not  an  ordained  minister 
and  could  not  admit  to  the  Church  or  administer 
the  Lord’s  Supper,  and  for  a long  time  no  mission- 
ary had  been  able  to  visit  the  chapel.  There  were 
only  two  to  attend  to  many  chapels  and  a great  deal 
of  other  work  besides  ; one  of  these  was  an  invalid 
and  the  other  not  strong ; so  Leng  Tso,  with  some 
others,  was  obliged  to  wait  long  before  she  could 
show  to  the  world,  by  joining  the  Church,  that  she 
belonged  to  Christ. 

One  Saturday  evening  Leng  Tso’s  eyes  shone  with 
joy  when  she  saw  one  of  the  foreign  teachers  sit  on 


THE  STRUGGLE  AyD  VICTORY.  317 


the  platform  to  take  charge  of  the  evening  worship. 
She  knew  that  the  communion  would  be  adminis- 
tered the  next  day,  and  then  she  might  join  with 
the  Lord’s  people  in  remembering  by  this  Supper 
the  love  of  the  Saviour.  Early  the  next  morning 
she  was  at  the  chapel,  and  when  those  who  wished 
to  be  Christians  and  those  who  hoped  that  they  be- 
longed to  the  Saviour  were  invited  to  meet  the  mis- 
sionary and  be  questioned  and  taught  by  him  the 
truth  and  the  meaning  of  baptism  and  the  com- 
munion, she  was  the  first  one  to  take  a seat.  Her 
answers  were  so  satisfactory  to  the  missionary,  who 
had  talked  to  her  only  once  or  twice  before,  that  he 
was  ready  at  once  to  baptize  and  receive  her  into 
the  Church,  though  he  advised  the  others  to  wait 
until  they  had  been  more  fully  taught. 

It  was  a happy  time  for  Leng  Tso  when  she  was 
welcomed.  At  that  communion  she  felt  that  there 
are  joys  of  which  the  world  does  not  know. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


A JOYFUL  SURPRISE. 

OOME  yeare  after  the  rebellion  there  came  into 
the  chapel  in  the  Foo  city  one  Sabbath  morn- 
ing a stranger.  Instead  of  sitting  back,  he  came 
near  the  platform  where  the  Christians  were,  and 
during  the  prayer-meeting  he  led  in  prayer.  At 
tlie  close  of  tlie  meeting  the  Christians  greeted  him 
heartily  with  the  wish  “ Peng-an  V (“  Peace  !”),  and 
learned  that  he  was  a chapel-keeper  and  preaehed 
in  a village  some  distance  down  the  river.  He 
said  that,  as  some  one  was  in  his  place  for  a few 
days,  he  had  come  to  see  the  preacher  in  the  Foo 
city  and  learn  how  the  gospel  prospered.  He  was 
surprised  to  see  so  many  women  in  the  chapel,  and 
asked  how  they  were  persuaded  to  attend  ; not  one 
came  to  his  own  chapel.  Several  men  who  were 
members  of  the  large  church  in  the  city  down  the 
river  attended,  and,  besides,  there  were  quite  a 
number  of  inquirers  and  others  who  were  becoming 
interested  in  the  gospel ; but  not  a woman  met  with 
them.  He  wished  to  know  how  to  get  them  to  at- 
t(Mid  the  chapel-service. 

318 


V 


A JOYFUL  SURPRISE. 


319 


One  of  the  men  told  him  that  the  Foo  city 
chapel  had  been  open  for  a number  of  years,  and 
that  the  women  had  been  gradually  brought  in — 
some  by  their  husbands  and  sons,  and  some  by  the 
women  who  became  Christians,  but  of  late  more 
had  been  brought  in  by  an  active  woman.  Ban 
Chim,  whose  heart  was  always  warm  for  the  doc- 
trine. 

“ Who  is  Ban  Chim  ?’’asked  the  man. 

Leng  Tso  was  pointed  out  to  him.  When  he 
was  told  that  she  was  a widow  with  no  relatives, 
and  spent  most  of  her  time  in  doing  good,  he  asked 
if  she  would  come  to  his  village  to  teach  the  women 
the  doctrine  and  bring  them  to  the  chapel  to  wor- 
ship God. 

Leng  Tso  was  introduced  to  the  stranger,  who 
invited  her  to  come  to  his  village  and  try  to  do 
good  there. 

“ I am  not  able  to  do  much  good,”  said  she,  “ and 
there  is  far  more  to  do  in  the  Foo  city  than  a thou- 
sand Christians  can  do.” 

“ But  here  there  are  women  to  bring  others  to 
hear  the  doctrine,”  answered  the  chapel-keeper : 
“ where  I am  there  is  no  one  woman  heare,  and  no 
one  to  teach.  We  are  poor  and  cannot  pay  you, 
yet  if  you  will  come  for  a little  while  there  is  hope 
that  you  may  bring  some  woman  to  hear  and  be- 
lieve the  gospel.” 

“ I am  an  ignorant  woman,”  said  Leng  Tso,  “and 
probably  would  be  of  no  u.se.” 


320 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIEL. 


“ Yet  you  may  try.  The  Lord  may  use  you  as 
his  iustrument.” 

“ But  I do  not  know  anybody  there,  and  it 
does  not  seem  proper  that  I should  go,”  she  an- 
swered. 

“ You  know  the  Lord,  and  none  of  his  people 
should  be  strange  to  you.” 

Long  Tso  told  him  finally  that  she  would  talk 
with  the  others  and  ask  the  Lord  to  direct  her,  and 
would  then  do  as  seemed  right  and  best. 

AVhen  the  regular  chapel-preacher,  who  happened 
to  be  away  from  the  morning  prayer-meeting,  came, 
he  was  glad  to  see  the  stranger,  with  whom  he  was 
acquainted,  and  gave  Brother  Hap,  as  he  called  him 
a warm  welcome.  Afterward  the  preacher  told 
Leng  Tso  that  Hap  was  a good  and  faithful  man. 
He  needed  just  the  help  that  she  could  give,  and 
advised  her  to  go  with  him  at  once.  Xone  wished 
to  let  her  go,  yet  none  were  willing  to  hinder  her 
going,  especially  as  Leng  Tso  promised  soon  to  be 
back  to  see  them  all.  She  made  her  home  with 
Hap,  but  used  her  own  money  to  buy  her  food, 
which,  to  save  Haji  So  trouble,  she  often  cooked 
herself. 

Hap’s  wife,  while  a member  of  the  church,  and 
probably  a Christian,  was  not  suited  to  be  the  wife 
of  a preacher.  Not  only  could  she  not  read,  but 
she  was  very  ignorant  and  not  a neat  or  cleanly 
woman.  Howev'er,  she  was  like  most  Chinese 
women,  for  not  one  in  a hundred  can  read,  and 


A JOYFUL  SURPRISE. 


321 


the  most  of  them  are  taught  little,  if  anything, 
beyond  the  simplest  household  duties.  Hap  So, 
since  her  husband  had  been  sent  to  the  village  of 
Han  Tay,  nev’er  went  to  the  chapel-service  on  the 
Sabbath,  excusing  herself  because  she  had  two 
small  children  and  no  one  with  whom  to  leave 
them.  The  real  reason  was  that  she  was  ashamed 
to  go  alone. 

AVhen  Leng  Tso  came  she  was  ready  at  once  to 
leave  the  children  at  home  with  Hap  and  go  along 
to  show  where  the  women  lived  and  introduce 
Leng  Tso. 

Leng  Tso  soon  jjreferred  to  go  alone.  She 
always  carried  her  Testament,  and  would  often 
please  the  women  by  reading  from  it.  She  was 
now  able  to  read  a number  of  chapters.  The 
women  listened  at  first  because  it  was  a woman 
who  read,  and  many  a time  did  they  wonder  at  the 
learning  of  the  reader.  More  surprised  .still  were 
they  to  know  that  .she  did  not  begin  to  learn  until 
she  was  forty  years  old.  When  any  women  were 
not  willing  to  hear  the  gospel,  Leng  Tso  would 
begin  with  the  children,  if  there  were  any,  and 
tell  of  her  own  and  what  had  become  of  them. 
This  interested  not  only  the  little  ones,  but  soon 
the  mothers  would  stop  their  work  and  listen  too. 
jNIany  a tear  would  the  mothers  shed  as  they  heard 
the  sad  story  of  the  childless  mother,  and  they 
were  ready  then  to  hear  Leng  Tso  as,  smiling 
through  her  own  tears,  she  said, 

21 


322 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


“ But  I will  meet  my  little  children  again,  if 
they  are  dead  now.” 

When  a child  asked,  ‘‘Where?”  she  was  ready 
with  the  fourteenth  chapter  of  John,  to  read  an 
answer  from  that. 

In  such  ways  did  she  teach  many  of  the  women 
and  children  the  gospel.  Before  long  all  were 
glad  to  welcome  the  pleasant  face  of  the  cheerful 
woman  ; and  Ban  Chim  lai  ” (“  Ban  Chim  comes”) 
was  all  that  was  needed  to  call  the  children  of  a 
family  together. 

To  get  the  women  to  attend  the  worship  in  the 
chapel  was  not  so  easy.  Some  had  one  and  some 
another  excuse.  One  could  not  leave  her  children, 
another  had  no  suitable  clothing;  this  one’s  hus- 
band would  not  let  her  go,  and  that  one  was  afraid 
that  the  gods  and  spirits  would  be  angry  if  she 
went  to  worshij)  a foreign  god.  But  a number 
asked, 

“ Why  does  not  the  2>reacher’s  wife  go  ? If  we 
ought  to  go,  why  not  she?” 

Returning  to  Hap’s  house,  Leng  Tso  told  his 
Xvife  what  she  had  heard,  and  urged  her  to  go  to 
the  worship  the  very  next  Sunday  morning,  taking 
her  children  with  her,  and  thus  set  an  example  to 
the  women  of  the  village.  They  might  go  out  if 
the  children  were  noisy,  or  might  keep  them  still 
with  sweet  things.  Hap  So  readily  agreed  to  this, 
and  the  first  Sabbath  afterward  both  women  and 
the  two  children  were  at  the  morning  service.  At 


A JOYFUL  SURPRISE. 


323 


the  afternoon  service  two  or  three  other  women 
were  present  for  the  first  time.  After  this  Len. 

so  had  iittle  trouble  in  getting  the  women  to 
attend. 

Leng  Tso  had  noticed  a young  man  sitting 
among  he  Christians  each  Sunday,  and  for  some 
reason  that  she  could  not  give  felt  much  interested 
in  nm  ^ He  always  looked  neat  and  clean,  yet  was 
dressed  in  the  clothing  of  a workingman.  As  it 
^ not  thought  proper  for  the  women,  even  in  the 
Christian  churches  in  China,  to  say  much  to  the 
men,  she  had  no  chance  to  speak  with  this  young 

After  noticing  him  for  several  Sabbaths  she 
asked  tlie  iiroacher  one  day, 

‘‘Who  IS  that  young  man  with  the  pleasant 
lace  who  comes  every  worship-day?” 

“Which  one?”  inquired  Hap.  There  are 
several  such.” 

“ The  one  I mean  comes  in  just  as  worship 
begias,  and  does  not  stay  at  all  after  it  ends  ” 

Two  or  three  do  that.  They  live  a long  dis- 
tance away.”  ^ 

‘ This  one  has  a large  scar  on  the  top  of  his 

ead,  as  though  he  had  been  a soldier  and  was 
wounded  in  battle.” 

‘‘Ah!  I know  whom  you  mean  now:  it  is 
Ciiau  ayoung  man  who  lives  a number  of  miles 

away  from  here.  He  is  a good  man  and  a Chris- 
tian. It  has  cost  him  much  to  be  one.” 


324 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE- GIRL. 


“Has  he  a father  and  mother?”  asked  Leng 
Tso;  and  her  eager,  anxious  face  made  Hap  look 
carefully  into  the  woman’s  face,  wondering  why 
she  seemed  so  much  interested  in  the  young 
man. 

“Yes,”  said  the  preacher;  “Chiau  has  a father 
and  mother.  Rather,  he  had,  but  he  has  none 
now.” 

“None  now?  Who?  where  are  they?  Why 
has  he  none  now  ?” 

Hap  could  not  understand  Leng  Tso’s  anxiety, 
and  he  slowly  answered, 

“His  father  and  mother  disowned  him  when  he 
determined  to  give  uj)  idol-worship,  and  drove  him 
away  from  the  home.  It  is  a long  story,  and  I 
will  tell  it  all  some  day  when  I have  more  time. 
He  is  now  working  tor  a farmer,  and  is  poor.  His 
father  is  rich,  but  will  not  even  notice  the  son, 

much  less  care  for  him,  now.  But  why  are  you 

so  interested  in  this  man  ?” 

“Oh,  I can  hardly  say,”  answered  Leng  Tso 
with  a sigh,  “unless  it  be  that  his  face  and  form 
make  me  think  of  my  son,  Lin,  whom  I lost. 

But  why  should  I be  thinking  of  my  boy  all 

the  time?” 

“This  cannot  be  your  son ; he  has  a father  and 
mother  living.” 

“ Xo,  I know  that ; but  he  does  make  me  long 
so  much  to  .see  my  Lin.  Doubtless  he  is  dead,  yet 
hope  has  not  died  with  him.” 


A JOYFUL  SURPRISE. 


325 


Leng  Tso  could  not  give  up  thinking  of  the 
young  man,  and  determined  to  get  a chance  to  talk 
to  him,  if  for  no  other  reason  than  because  of  the 
interest  she  felt  in  him  as  one  who  had  suffered 
much  for  the  gospel’s  sake.  The  very  next  Sab- 
bath she  watched  as  he  came  out  of  the  chapel 
after  morning  service,  and,  going  to  him,  said 
that,  as  she  was  an  old  woman,  she  hoped  that  she 
might  be  permitted  to  speak  to  him. 

“ Your  face  reminds  me  so  much  of  my  boy 
whom  I have  lost  that  I want  to  be  your  friend,” 
she  added.  “You  have  lost  your  relatives,  I am 
told,  and  so  have  I.  We  may  sympathize  with 
each  other.” 

When  she  spoke  and  told  of  her  lost  boy,  Cliiau’s 
eyes  were  fixed  on  her  face.  As  soon  as  she  was 
silent  he  asked  eagerly, 

“ What  was  your  boy’s  name,  and  where  did 
he  live?” 

“ His  name  was  Lin,  his  father’s  name  Ta  Ban, 
and  our  home  was  the  Foo  city.  He  was  stolen 
from  my  husband  by  a baud  of  robbers,  who  also 
took  a large  sum  of  money.” 

As  she  spoke  Cliiau’s  eyes  sparkled,  his  face 
seemed  full  of  hope  and  happiness,  and  when  she 
ended  he  dropped  on  his  knees  before  her  as  he 
said, 

“ My  woi’thy,  exalted  mother,  I am  your  lost 
boy — your  Lin  !” 

“A"ou!  Y'ou  ray  lost  Lin!  How  can  it  be? 


326 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIEL. 


You  have  a father,  a mother.  My  Lin’s  father 
is  dead.” 

“ Wliat ! Is  my  father  dead  ? Alas,  ray  mo- 
ther!” 

“ Are  you  my  long-lost  son  ? How  can  you 
be?”  asked  Leng  Tso. 

“ I am  your  son — your  Lin,”  answered  the  young 
man,  “ and  I will  tell  you  all.  Though  many  years 
have  passed,  I have  not  forgotten.” 

Leng  Tso,  as  she  looked  into  his  face,  saw  it  was 
that  of  her  long-lost  son ; and  as  her  arms  were 
thrown  around  his  neck  and  the  long-pent-up  love 
btinst  forth,  she  showed  tliat  it  was  a mother’s  lieart 
that  rejoiced  over  lier  child.  The  fullne.ss  of  glad- 
ness, of  joy,  of  delight,  at  the  reuniting  repaid  the 
lonely  mother  for  many  of  her  days  of  mourning. 

The  story  of  Lin — for  we  shall  call  him  by  the 
name  of  his  boyhood — is  briefly  told : 

When  the  robbers  had  driven  Ban  away  they 
hurried  on,  taking  with  them  the  captured  boy  and 
the  money.  After  traveling  a long  distance  they 
came  to  a village,  where  they  stopped  for  some 
time.  Here  they  sold  him  to  a man  who  wanted 
a boy  to  adopt  as  his  own.  He  took  Lin  to  his 
home,  and,  giving  him  another  name,  made  him 
his  own  son.  Lin’s  adopted  father  was  rich,  hav- 
ing a large  farm  and  considerable  wealth  besides. 
To  all  this  Lin  would  some  day  fall  heir.  He  was 
kindly  treated  by  his  new  parents,  and  had  all 
that  he  could  wish. 


A JOYFUL  SURPRISE. 


327 


For  some  years  everything  went  well  with  him, 
but  as  Lin  became  a man  he  went  to  see  some 
friends,  and  there  heard  the  gospel  preached.  He 
soon  became  interested  and  anxious  to  be  a Chris- 
tian. As  he  stayed  away  longer  than  his  father 
intended,  the  old  man  sent  for  him  to  come  home. 
Lin  obeyed.  He  hardly  knew  whether  or  not  to 
tell  about  his  wish  to  give  up  idol-worship.  For 
some  time  he  kept  the  secret,  and  whenever  he 
could  went  to  a Christian  chapel  some  miles  away. 
His  father,  hearing  of  this,  asked  if  he  meant  to 
give  up  the  woi’shij)  of  the  gods  and  spirits.  Lin 
then  told  him  that  he  w^as  determined  to  be  a Chris- 
tian. Very  respectfully  he  listened  to  his  father. 
The  old  man  commanded  him  never  to  hear  the 
doctrine  again,  yet  he  gently  but  firmly  answered 
that  he  must  serve  God  rather  than  man,  and, 
much  as  he  wished  to  please  his  father,  he  could 
not  obey  him  in  this. 

“ If  you  do  not,”  said  the  old  man,  “I  will  dis- 
own you ; I will  drive  you  from  my  door ; I will 
make  you  a beggar  and  an  outcast.  I give  you 
time  to  think  and  be  wise.” 

Some  time  after  this  Lin  went  to  the  chapel. 
His  father  heard  of  it,  and  again  threatened  him 
that  if  it  were  continued  he  would  drive  him  from 
his  door  like  a dog.  Lin  tried  in  vain  to  reason 
with  the  old  man.  He  pleaded  with  him  and  prayed 
for  him,  and  hoped  that  his  father  would  yet  allow 
him  to  be  a Christian.  He  would  not  go  back  to 


328 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


idolatry,  yet  dreaded  to  be  disowned  and  driven 
from  the  door  by  one  who  had  been  so  kind 
to  liim. 

For  a time  Lin  hesitated.  He  told  his  Christian 
friends  of  his  troubles,  and  asked  advice.  They 
could  do  no  better  than  repeat  to  him  the  words 
of  Jesus  about  a man  forsaking  houses  and  lands, 
father  and  mother,  for  his  and  the  kingdom  of 
heaven’s  sake.  These  words  brought  Lin  to  a de- 
cision. He  went  again  to  the  chapel,  nor  did  he 
try  to  hide  from  his  father  that  he  had  done  so. 

When  they  were  together  in  the  field  a day  or 
two  after  this  the  old  man  asked  Lin  if  he  had 
decided  to  give  up  the  foreign  religion  and  return 
to  the  worship  of  the  gods  of  China. 

“ No,”  said  he ; “ I cannot  go  back.  I have 
given  myself  to  Jesus  Christ,  the  Saviour  of  men, 
and  to  God,  the  great  God.  If  it  costs  me.  every- 
thing to  be  a Christian,  I .still  will  not  go  back.” 

“ Then  leave  me,”  said  the  father,  “ and  never 
let  me  see  the  face  again  of  such  an  ungrateful 
wretch.  Go ! Never  (;ro.ss  my  door  again  ! Never 
enter  my  sight!  All  my  wealth  might  have  been 
yours ; now  you  .shall  not  touch  a cash  of  it.” 
“Father,”  began  Lin,  “ I will  do  anything  you 
ask  me — I will  be  faithful,  as  I have  always  tried 
to  be,  to  you  and  my  mother — but  this  one  thing  I 
cannot  do.  I Ciuinot  forsake  the  true  God.  I can- 
not.” Before  he  could  say  more  the  old  man  beside 
him.self  with  anger,  caught  up  a heavy,  thick-bladcd 


A JOYFUL  SURPRISE. 


329 


iron  hoe,  and  with  his  whole  strength  struck  Lin  on 
the  head.  Witli  a heavy  groan  the  young  man  sank 
to  the  ground. 

Not  even  looking  to  see  whether  his  son  was  dead 
or  alive,  the  old  man  turned  away  and  w'alked  to 
his  liome.  Nor  did  he  come  back  to  care  for  Lin  ; 
he  did  not  even  allow  any  servant  to  notice  the 
young  man.  Some  Christian  men,  who  had  either 
seen  the  cruel  act  or  had  come  along  and  found 
Lin,  took  him  to  their  home.  After  some  hours 
he  returned  to  consciousness,  and  in  time  recovered. 

Lin  was  now  a homeless  outcast,  and  for  some 
months  was  forced  to  depend  on  Christian  friends 
for  food  and  shelter.  No  idolaters  would  shelter 
him,  much  less  give  him  work.  Had  it  not  been 
for  the  sympathy  and  care  of  Christians  he  might 
have  starved  even  after  he  recovered.  At  length 
he  found  work  in  a place  where  none  knew  him, 
and  now  he  was  supporting  himself,  and  saving  a 
little  besides,  by  working  liard  six  days  out  of 
seven.  When  he  hired  to  work  he  insisted  that  he 
should  have  one  day  in  seven  for  rest. 

We  need  not  describe  the  happiness  of  Lin  and 
his  mother,  but  add,  as  we  close  the  chapter,  that 
Lin  is  not  the  only  one  in  China  who  has  been 
driven  from  home  because  he  became  a Christian. 
The  author  has  known  others  who  were  treated  al- 
most as  cruelly,  and  who  gave  up  as  much  as  he 
for  Christ’s  sake.  A religion  that  leads  to  such 
sacrifices  has  something  in  it. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE  NEW  RELIGION  IN  THAU  PAU. 

WE  have  not  yet  taken  final  leave  of  Thau 
Pau.  Let  us  look  in  upon  the  little  walled 
village  again. 

Liong  and  Gan,  who  were  boys  when  Leng  Tso 
was  a girl  in  the  village,  are  middle-aged  men  now. 
They  are  troubled  with  diseases  which  the  Chinese 
doctors  are  unable  to  cure.  They  heard  years  ago 
that  in  the  city  of  Ha  Bun  foreign  doctors  had  a 
hospital  where  medicine  was  given  and  the  sick 
cared  for  without  ]>ay.  It  was  said  that  many 
people  who  had  gone  to  this  hospital  had  been  en- 
tirely cured.  Liong  and  Gan  talked  the  matter 
over  together,  and  agreed  to  go  to  Ha  Bun  to  see 
if  they  could  he  cured.  Some  of  the  people  ad- 
vised them  not  to  go.  The  foreign  doctors  would 
kill  them  and  cut  them  up  to  make  medicine  of, 
they  said,  for  in  foreign  countries  medicine  made 
of  Chinamen  brought  a very  high  price. 

“ We  will  die  here,”  said  Liong,  “ and  we  can 
only  be  killed  there,  but  we  may  be  cured.  I have 
heard  that  all  of  those  foreigners  are  not  bad.” 


330 


THE  NEW  RELIGION  IN  THAU  PAU.  331 


Neither  Liong  nor  Gan  would  listen  to  the  warn- 
ings of  the  people,  and  one  morning  they  started 
ofiF  together  for  Ha  Bun.  They  soon  found  the 
hos2)ital,  and  were  told  that  they  must  wait  two 
days  before  the  foreign  doctor  would  come.  This 
did  not  trouble  them,  as  it  gave  them  a chance  to 
see  the  city. 

Each  morning  there  came  to  the  hospital  a young 
man  who,  the  jieople  said,  was  studying  to  be  a 
teacher  of  a foreign  religion  that  some  foreigners 
were  teaching  in  the  city.  He  came  to  tell  the  sick 
people  about  this  new  doctrine  and  to  help  them 
worship  the  foreigners’  God.  Liong  and  Gan 
having  nothing  else  to  do,  were  very  ready  to  lis- 
ten. They  were  pleased  with  the  singing.  Liong 
thought  he  had  never  heard  such  fine  music,  and 
soon  began  to  sing  a little  himself ; but  as  he  did 
not  know  the  tune  he  was  obliged  to  use  one  of  his 
own — one  that  he  had  never  used  before,  nor  had 
any  one  else  ever  heard  it ; but  it  fitted  the  words 
(in  fact,  like  india-rubber,  it  could  be  made  to  fit 
any  hymn  ever  written).  Liong  enjoyed  singing 
when  he  could  do  his  share  of  it ; so,  reaching  the 
book  to  Gan,  he  asked, 

“ Why  do  you  not  sing  ?” 

“ I am  afraid,”  answered  Gan.  He  was  ashamed 
to  say  tliat  he  could  not  read. 

The  Christian  young  man,  after  the  singing,  be- 
gan to  }>ray,  Liong  and  Gan  looked  and  wondered 
where  the  God  was  to  whom  the  young  man  was 


332 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-GIRL. 


speaking.  There  was  nothing  that  looked  like  a 
god,  nor  yet  like  an  ancestral  tablet,  in  the  room. 
Not  only  was  the  prayer  ditferent  from  anything 
they  had  ever  heard  in  the  temples,  but  the  man 
jjrayed  as  though  he  ^^•as  really  in  earnest — as 
though  he  meant  every  word  he  said. 

After  the  prayer  another  hymn  was  sung.  Gan 
thought  he  would  try  to  sing  a little  too,  for  Liong 
was  shouting  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  but  he  did  not 
know  whether  to  sing  loud  when  Liong  did,  or  when 
the  others  did ; so  he  kept  along  with  moderation. 
He  did  not  know  the  words  of  the  hymns,  except  as 
he  heard  them,  so  he  could  not  get  ahead,  and  since 
he  sang  each  word  as  he  heard  it,  he  did  not  get 
behind  very  far.  No  one  laughed  at  Liong’s  sing- 
ing; it  is  considered  very  impolite  among  the 
Chinese  to  laugh  at  the  mistakes  of  othei's.  Liong 
hardly  knew  but  that  he  was  the  best  singer  in  the 
whole  company  ; he  made  the  most  noise,  certainly. 

After  the  singing  the  young  man  talked  to  them. 
Both  the  Thau  Pau  men  listened.  It  was  a new 
doctrine,  and  they  wanted  to  know  what  kind  of 
religion  foreigners  had.  Gan  soon  lost  interest, 
however,  and  began  to  think  what  the  foreign  doc- 
tor would  do  for  him,  but  Liong  heard  the  speaker 
to  the  very  end.  When  the  meeting  closed  he  told 
Gan  tliat  the  foreign  doctrine  was  good,  and  he 
wished  to  know  more  about  it.  As  for  the  for- 
eigners’ God,  the  Middle  Kingdom  had  none  like 
him.  It  was  no  wonder  that  the  foreigners  had 


THE  .YjE:]r  RELIGION  IN  THAU  PAU.  333 


but  one  God ; one  such  was  good  enough  for  any 
nation,  and  was  worth  ten  thousand  times  as  much 
as  some  of  the  gods  in  their  land. 

The  next  day  the  two  men  were  at  the  service 
again,  Liong  more  interested  than  before,  but  he 
did  not  sing  quite  so  loud ; some  one  had  told 
him  that  he  must  try  to  sing  a little  more  softly. 
There  was  another  young  man  to  preach  on  this  day. 
Liong  wondered  what  the  men  got  for  preaching. 
But  when  the  speaker  said  that  the  religion  of  the 
forei«:n  God  was  one  of  g:ivino;  rather  than  of  re- 
ceiving,  and  that  those  who  began  worshiping  him 
must  expect  to  lose  by  it,  Liong  did  not  think  so 
favorably  of  it.  He  had  gained  a good  deal  of 
wealth  in  Thau  Pau,  and  did  not  like  to  think  of 
losing  it.  When  the  preacher  told  what  the  foreign 
God  had  done  to  save  men,  and  thus  proved  that 
this  was  a religion  of  giving  rather  than  of  getting, 
Liong  listened  again,  more  attentively  than  before. 

“ Strange,”  he  said  to  himself,  “ that  a God  should 
give  his  Son  for  men,  when  he  knew  that  he  would 
get  nothing  for  it ! That  God  does  not  belong  to 
the  Middle  Kingdom.” 

Thus  for  several  mornings  these  men  attended 
the  preaching  in  the  hospital,  and  after  the  first  day 
they  met  with  the  people  for  worship  in  the  even- 
ing too. 

The  foreign  doctor  came,  and,  after  examining 
both  men,  with  many  others  who  came  to  the  hos- 
pital for  relief,  he  said  that  they  could  both  be  cured 


334 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


in  a short  time.  All  that  they  needed  was  a certain 
kind  of  medicine,  which  he  gave,  and  told  them 
that  after  he  had  seen  them  for  a few  days  they 
could  go  back  to  Thau  Pan. 

They  soon  found  that  the  medicine  made  them 
better,  and  this  made  them  think  all  the  more 
favorably  of  the  foreign  religion.  Not  only  did 
both  of  them  become  interested  in  it;  both  wished 
to  become  Christians.  They  asked  many  questions 
about  ibis  new  religion  of  the  Christian  man  who 
liad  charge  of  the  hospital.  He  taught  them  all 
he  could,  and  told  them,  when  Sunday  came,  where 
to  go  in  the  city  to  hear  the  foreigners  teach  this 
new  doctrine.  He  told  them,  too,  that  once  every 
seven  days  all  the  Christians  rested  from  work,  and 
spent  the  day  in  meeting  together  to  serve  God.  It 
was  on  this  day — called  by  the  Christians  “wor- 
shi})-day” — that  the  foreign  preachers  went  to  their 
chapels  to  teach  about  this  religion  that  the  man 
said  came  from  heaven. 

Liong  and  Gan  went  to  the  church,  and  were 
sui-prised  to  find  a large  building  full  of  people 
listening  to  the  foreign  teacher.  He  stood  on  a 
platform  raised  some  distance  above  the  floor.  Be- 
hind and  on  either  gide  of  him,  but  separated  from 
the  men  by  a low  partition  with  short  curtains  at 
the  top,  were  a number  of  women,  also  hearing  the 
doctrine.  The  more  these  two  men  heard  of  the 
gospel,  the  more  determined  were  they  to  become 
Christians ; and  when  the  doctor  said  they  might 


THE  NEW  RELIGION  IN  THA  U PA  U.  335 


return  home,  they  went  with  the  resolve  not  only 
to  serve  the  foreign  God  themselves,  but  to  teach 
others  in  Thau  Pau  to  serve  him  too. 

The  people  were  surprised  to  see  them  home  so 
soon,  and  still  more  surprised  to  find  them  so  much 
better,  and  likely  to  become  well. 

“ So  the  foreigners  did  not  want  you  for  med- 
icine?” said  one. 

“ Xo,”  answered  Liong ; “ we  were  not  good 
enough.  Besides,  we  were  too  old  and  tough ; so 
they  cured  us  instead.” 

“ They  do  not  make  medicine  of  men,”  said  Gan. 
“ Foreigners  are  wise  and  good  men ; they  not  only 
know  how  to  cure  sick  people,  but  they  do  it  for 
nothing.” 

On  their  way  home  the  two  patients  had  talked 
about  the  best  way  to  tell  the  people  of  the  new 
doctrine.  They  thought  it  would  be  best  to  say 
ver)’  little  about  it,  but  they  would  quietly  destroy 
their  idols  and  on  the  Sabbath  day  gather  their  own 
families  together,  and  invite  a few  friends  to  join 
with  them  in  worshiping  God' and  keeping  the  Sab- 
bath hoi}’. 

When  the  day  came  they  met  in  a room  in  Liong’s 
house.  After  telling  the  few  friends  present  with 
them  what  they  intended  to  do,  Liong  talked  a 
while  of  what  they  had  heard,  Gan  adding  a few 
words  now  and  then.  Then  Liong  said  that  they 
two,  with  their  families,  meant  to  give  up  worship- 
ing idols  and  the  spirits  of  the  dead,  and  that  they 


336 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-OIRL. 


would  serve  this  great  foreign  God,  and  they  would 
like  others  to  join  them.  Some  said  that  it  would 
not  do — that  the  gods  and  the  spirits  Avould  be 
angr}’;  yet  they  were  willing  to  stay  and  hear, 
Avhile  others  were  ready  to  try  the  new  worship  for 
a short  time.  If  it  was  not  so  good  as  the  old, 
they  said,  they  might  easily  give  it  up.  Liong 
had  brought  a New  Testament  with  him,  and  one 
hymn-book  containing  a few  hymns.  ^lost  of  these 
hymns  he  had  learned  to  read  quite  well ; of  a few 
he  had  learned  the  tunes. 

Liong  read  a hymn  and  said  that  they  would  sing 
it ; none  but  Gan  understood  what  he  meant.  The 
Chinese  seldom  sing,  and  of  course  these  knew 
very  little  about  singing.  But  when  Liong  started, 
and  Gan  tried  to  keep  up,  the  people  got  an  idea 
that  singing  was  something  diflPerent  from  anything 
they  had  ever  heard.  Liong  did  so  bravely  that 
before  he  was  through  with  the  first  hymn  one  or 
two  wished  that  they  could  sing.  They  asked 
Liong  to  read  the  hymn  over  again  and  sing  it 
once  more.  After  singing,  Liong  prayed,  then 
sang  another  hymn,  and  then,  as  he  had  seen  other 
preachers  of  the  foreign  religion  do,  he  tried  to  tell 
them  about  this  new  doctrine.  Then  people  list- 
ened, and  became  interested.  After  the  service  was 
over  they  asked  when  another  meeting  would  be 
held.  Liong  said  that  they  might  hold  another 
that  same  day,  and  Gan  could  take  the  lead.  Gan 
objected,  but  said  that  he  would  help ; he  could 


THE  NEW  RELTGTON  IN  THAU  HAU.  337 


pray,  he  said,  and  sing  a little,  but  Liong  could 
speak  much  better  than  he. 

In  the  afternoon  tlie  little  company  gathered  to- 
gether again.  Much  of  the  time  was  spent  in  sing- 
ing- and  talking;  about  the  new  religion.  The 
people  soon  learned  to  sing  some  of  the  hymns 
almost  as  well  as  Liong;  perhaps  he  improved 
by  teaching  others.  Liong  liked  to  lead  others, 
and,  while  he  was  really  in  earnest  about  being 
a Ckristian,  he  was  glad  that  he  was  the  first 
one  to  bring  this  religion  to  the  village.  He 
was  glad  not  only  that  he  might  thus  do  good 
to  others,  but  because  he  was  the  one  who  was 
doing  it.  Liong  had  not  yet  learned  that  lie 
who  is  g;reatest  in  the  king;dom  of  heaven  is  the 
one  who  thinks  himself  the  least.  He  had  only 
learned  a little  of  the  gospel.  More  than  a few 
days,  or  even  weeks,  is  needed  to  change  a heathen 
into  a good  Christian.  He  may  very  soon  learn 
enough  to  become  a follower  of  Jesus  and  have 
his  sins  forgiven ; but  when  a lifetime  is  not 
long  enough  for  us  to  learn  all  that  we  might 
know  of  the  Christian  life,  it  is  not  strange  that 
Liong  was  not  yet  as  wise  or  good  as  he  might  be. 
Liong  was  trying  to  do  better,  and  each  day  he 
gained  a little;  but,  as  he  said,  it  was  trying  to 
teach  an  old  ox  to  plough ; it  was  very  hard  to 
learn. 

Liong’s  wife  did  not  like  to  give  up  her  old 
religion.  The  gods  would  be  angry,  she  said,  or 


22 


338 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-OIRL. 


the  spirits  would  send  some  punishment  upon  them 
or  the  village,  because  a foreign  god  was  worsliiped 
there.  When  Liong  gathered  his  family  for  wor- 
ship she  would  excuse  herself,  saying  that  she  vvas 
too  busy;  he  might  worship  for  the  whole  family. 
While  he  was  at  work  in  the  field  she  would  teach 
the  children  to  worship  the  gods  and  the  tablets, 
and  in  this  way  try  to  prevent  their  becoming 
Christians.  Liong  said  little  to  her  about  it,  but 
kept  up  family  worship  and  the  Sabbath  service, 
hoping  that  his  wife  would  some  day  become  a 
Christian.  She  liked  to  hear  the  singing,  and 
usually  was  at  the  Sabbath  service.  She  was 
even  proud  of  Liong’s  singing.  Soon  her  childi’en 
learned  to  sing,  and  they  made  more  music  than  he, 
though  not  quite  so  much  noise.  Liong  So  said  to 
Gan  So  one  day  that  when  the  children  gnnv  up 
they  would  probably  sing  as  well  as  their  father. 
A loud  noise  she  thought  the  best  kind  of  sing- 
ing. Some  peojile  who  are  not  heathen  think  the 
same. 

One  hvmn,  whose  translation  would  be  some- 
thing like  the  old  hymn  “ Happy  Land,”  and 
sung  to  the  same  tune,  was  a great  favorite  of  the 
children.  The  first  verse,  if  written  with  our 
letters,  would  be  thus : 

“ Thian-tong  long  bo  Kho-lan, 

Eng-oah  bo  si ; 

JIo  lang  ohheng-chheng  ban-ban, 
iliong-hok  bii-pi ; 


THE  NEW  RELIGION  IN  THAU  PAU.  339 


Gim-si  sit-cliai  ho  thia, 

Tang  olo  la-So  chun  mia ; 

Jit  mi  lioa-hi  toa  sia, 

Tit-Kau  ban-se.” 

Its  translation  would  read  like  this : 

“ In  heaven  above  no  troubles  come, 

Nor  even  death ; 

Tlie  good  enjoy  that  lasting  home 
With  every  breath. 

Oh  liow  they  sweetly  sing, 

Voices  praising  Jesus,  King  ! 

By  day  and  night  they  sing — 

Eternally.” 

This  hymn  rang  in  Liong  So’s  ears,  and  the 
more  she  thought  of  it  the  more  she  wished  there 
was  such  a place  for  her.  Then  Liong  had  become 
such  a different  man — so  much  more  kind  to  her 
and  to  the  children — that  she  wondered  if  the 
God  to  whom  he  prayed  did  not  really  help  him. 
If  it  were  so,  then  she  believed  him  a good  God, 
and  much  better  than  the  gods  of  China.  With- 
out telling  any  one,  she  determined  to  pray  to  him 
too  when  no  one  heard  her.  She  did  pray,  but  the 
more  she  prayed  the  more  she  felt  that  she  was 
not  good,  and  therefore  could  not  go  to  that  happy 
place. 

One  Sunday  after  service  she  prayed  aloud,  and 
Liong  heard  her.  He  listened,  and  found  that  she 
was  ])raying  to  be  made  better.  At  night,  when 
he  called  the  family  together,  his  wife  came  too 


340 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE- GIRL. 


and  kneeled  - witli  them.  Liong  prayed  the  Lord 
to  help  each  one  of  his  family  to  reach  the  heaven- 
ly home. 

“ It  may  be,”  he  said,  “ that  some  one  of  us 
wishes  to  go,  but  does  not  know  the  way.” 

Liong  So  burst  into  tears  as  she  said, 

“Tioh.tioh!  qoa  si  mini”  (“True!  true!  I am 
thus  ”). 

As  they  arose  from  their  knees  Liong  tried  to 
tell  his  wife  how  to  trust  in  Jesus,  that  she  might 
reach  the  heavenly  home,  and  told  her  to  ask  God 
to  show  her  spirit  how  to  believ'e  in  the  Saviour. 

The  weeping  woman  went  to  bed,  but  was 
unable  to  sleep.  She  arose  and  kneeled  down  to 
pray;  while  praying  all  seemed  to  grow  light 
around  her.  She  forgot  her  sorrow,  she  was 
happy — oh,  so  ha2)py  ! — now.  She  awoke  Liong 
and  asked, 

“Am  I to  take  Jesus  just  as  I took  you  when 
we  were  married — to  give  myself  entirely  to  him  ? 
Do  I take  his  name,  give  up  everything  that  does 
not  belong  to  him,  and  serve  him  alone?” 

“Yes,”  said  Liong;  “I  think  that  is  just  the 
way.” 

“ Oh,  then  I know ; then  I love  Jesus  more 
than  I do  you  or  my  children — more  than  every- 
thing else.  Jesus  is  the  Husband  of  my  soul,  as 
you  are  of  my  body.” 

“Yes,”  said  Liong;  “and  I am  so  glad  that 
you  love  Jesus!  He  is  good.” 


THE  NEW  RELIGION  IN  THAU  PAU.  341 

It  was  late  before  the  two  happy  people  went 
to  sleep  again.  They  did  not  know  much  of  the 
gospel,  but  they  did  know  enough  to  fill  their 
hearts  with  more  joy  than  they  had  ever  before 
known. 

For  some  months  the  people  of  Thau  Pan 
allowed  the  little  band  of  worshipers  to  serve  the 
foreign  God.  Many  objected  that  they  ought  not 
to  forsake  the  religion  of  their  fathers,  or  give  up 
the  faith  of  the  Middle  Kingdom  for  that  of  for- 
eigners. Besides,  it  was  not  treating  the  gods 
propei’ly  to  bring  into  the  country  another,  whom 
the  gods  did  not  know.  It  was  rebellion  against 
them,  worse  than  that  of  the  Tai  Pings,  and  some 
day  the  gods  would  punish  it  too. 

Several  families  besides  Liong’s  and  Gan’s  be- 
came regular  Sabbath-worshipers,  and  this  made 
the  idolaters  the  more  opposed  to  the  new  doc- 
trine. If  Liong  and  Gan  were  foolish  enough  to 
wish  to  serve  another  god,  they  might  do  so,  but 
they  must  not  take  other  people  with  them. 

This  fault-finding  increased  until  the  idolaters 
resolved  to  put  a .stop  to  the  new  worship.  So 
they  held  a meeting  and  determined  to  forbid  any 
more  worship  in  the  village  except  that  of  idols  and 
the  spirits  of  the  dead.  Liong  and  Gan,  with  their 
families,  were  alarmed.  They  were  not  prepared 
for  this.  Had  Liong  been  better  instructed  in  the 
New  Testament,  he  might  have  helped  the  others 
to  understand  their  duty,  but  he  met  so  many 


342 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


strange  words  that  he  could  understand  little  of 
what  he  did  read. 

It  may  be  said  here  that  the  Chinese  written 
language  is  not  like  our  own.  If  we  can  read  one 
book  we  can  read  another,  because  we  can  spell  the 
words  that  w^e  do  not  know%  even  though  the  mean- 
ing is  not  plain.  The  Chinese  written  language  is 
not  spelled  at  all.  Each  w'ord  has  what  is  called 
its  owm  character  or  sign,  or  we  might  say  picture, 
and  that  is  different  from  any  other  w’ord-sign. 
There  are  many  of  these  characters  to  be  learned. 
Each  book  may  have  some  that  no  other  book  has, 
just  as  in  our  books  w'e  find  words  that  we  have 
not  read  before.  To  learn  enough  to  read  any  book 
in  the  Chinese  language  would  take  almost  a life- 
time. To  learn  to  read  the  Gospel  of  Matthew 
alone,  which  has  nearly,  if  not  quite,  two  thousand 
characters,  takes  many  months  of  hard  study.  Liong 
could  read  many  verses  in  the  New  Testament,  but, 
as  there  w'ere  many  words  that  he  did  not  know, 
he  could  not  read  a whole  chapter  anywhere.  As 
he  was  the  best  reader  in  Thau  Pan,  and  as  he  and 
Gan  were  the  only  ones  wdio  had  heard  the  gospel, 
the  people  could  not  learn  much  of  the  truth. 

When  the  idolaters  told  the  worshipers  of  God 
that  they  must  give  up  the  foreign  religion  or  leave 
the  village,  some  of  them  said, 

“ Why  can  we  not  pretend  to  w'orship  idols,  and 
yet  in  our  hearts  w'orship  the  true  God?” 

Liong  was  not  a coward. 


THE  NEW  RELIGION  IN  THAU  PAU.  343 


“ No,”  said  he ; “ if  Jesus  Christ  stands  by  us, 
we  must  stand  by  him,  no  matter  what  comes.” 

“ And  lose  your  land  and  cattle  and  home,  and 
everything  you  have  in  Thau  Pau?”  asked  one. 

“ Yes,”  said  he — “ everything.  The  teacher  told 
us  that  Jesus  left  evei’vthing  to  save  us,  and  we 
should  leave  everything  for  his  sake.” 

Many  times  the  Christians  talked  about  what 
they  should  do,  yet  none  of  them  were  willing  to 
go  back  to  idolatry.  Some  would  have  made  a 
pretence  of  worshiping  the  gods  and  have  given 
money  for  idolatrous  feasts,  but  Liong  said  this 
would  not  do : God  wanted  the  whole  or  none. 
At  last  they  agreed  to  say  nothing  to  others  about 
the  doctrine,  and  to  hold  no  more  Sabbath  services 
in  the  village.  Thus  they  hoped  to  lead  the  peo- 
ple to  suppose  that  they  had  given  up  the  worship 
of  the  foreign  God.  They  were  to  have  their  fam 
ily  worship  as  usual,  but  must  not  sing,  nor  must 
they  pray  very  loud.  This  part  of  the  decision 
was  trying  to  Liong  and  to  some  others. 

“And  are  we  to  give  up  entirely  our  meeting 
together  for  worship  ?”  asked  one.  “ Would  it 
be  right?  Will  the  Lord  be  pleased  with  it? 
Besides,  will  it  not  be  like  trying  to  keep  up 
a fire  by  taking  the  burning  sticks  away  from 
each  other?” 

“No;  it  will  not  do,”  said  Liong;  “we  must 
meet  together.  The  Holy  Book  says  that  we  are 
Christ’s  sheep,  and  sheep  go  in  flocks.  When  they 


344 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


pasture  alone,  wolves  and  tigers  come  in  among 
them.” 

“How  shall  we  meet,  then?  and  where?”  was 
asked, 

“ I will  tell  you,”  said  Liong : “ On  the  other 
side  of  the  mountain,  you  know,  I have  a field 
that  I work.  Every  worship-day  we  will  take 
our  buffaloes,  our  ploughs,  hoes  and  other  tools, 
and  go  over  there  as  though  we  went  to  work. 
W e will  take  food  along  and  stay  all  day.  There 
we  will  meet  to  worship  God  and  sing,  and  I 
will  read  the  Holy  Book  to  you.” 

This  pleased  every  one  of  the  company.  They 
were  very  careful  to  say  nothing  about  their  plans 
to  the  people  in  the  village,  and  on  the  next  Sab- 
bath morning  started  for  the  field  across  the  hills. 
There,  where  no  Christian  song  of  j)raise  or  ])rayer 
to  Jesus  Christ  had  ever  been  heard,  the  little 
company  spent  their  Sabbath  in  woi'shiping  the 
true  God. 

As  Liong  slowly  read  to  them  from  the  New 
Testament  the  people  gathered  around,  as  thirsty 
travelers  gather  around  the  tiny  spring  to  catch 
every  drop  that  trickles  down.  It  was  a blessed 
prayer-and-])raise  meeting.  Their  hearts  learned 
that  there  is  something  more  real  in  the  simple 
service  of  God  than  in  the  grandest  ceremonies 
ever  celebrated  in  the  idol-temple.  No  wall  to  their 
house  of  worship  but  the  hills,  no  roof  but  the 
ovei’shadowing  tree,  no  seats  but  the  green  grass, 


THE  XEW  RELIGION  IN  THAU  PAU.  345 

no  other  books  than  the  one  Testament  and  the 
little  hymn-book ; yet  who  can  doubt  that  their 
worship  was  as  acceptable  to  God  as  that  which  is 
offered  in  the  most  beautiful  church  or  cathedral  ? 

They  prayed  and  hoped  that  soon  the  opposition 
might  cease,  so  that  they  could  again  worship  God 
in  their  own  homes.  Had  they  known  the  way  the 
Lord  would  take  to  answer  those  prayers,  their 
hearts  might  have  failed  them.  But  God  did  not 
show  the  way  until  he  had  made  them  strong 
enough  to  walk  in  it. 

The  day  closed  too  soon  for  the  happy  worshipers. 
When  evening  came  they  returned  home,  carrying 
their  tools  and  leading  their  buffaloes  as  though 
they  had  spent  the  day  at  work.  Thus  for  a num- 
ber of  weeks  did  they  spend  tlieir  Sabbaths  in  their 
worship-place  among  the  hills. 

The  idolaters  watched  the  company  of  Liong  to 
see  if  they  would  worship  God  on  that  following 
Sabbath.  W'hen  they  were  seen  to  take  their  tools 
and  go  off  to  work,  the  people  who  remained  in  the 
village  were  glad. 

“ Ah  !”  said  they,  “ we  have  driven  this  foreign 
religion  out  of  them.  They  are  going  to  work  as 
usual ; it  will  be  all  right.  Let  them  alone ; take 
no  notice  of  them.  Do  not  scratch  a sore  that  is 
healing,  or  it  will  bleed  again.” 

Lest  the  idolaters  should  be  suspicious  of  them, 
the  little  band  would  scatter  and  not  start  the  same 
way  or  at  the  same  time  from  the  village.  Yet  afte.- 


3i6 


THE  ClIISKSE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


a time  some  of  the  idolaters  became  suspicious  of 
tlicsu  same  people  going  away  every  few  days 
and  being  absent  the  whole  day  from  Thau  Pan. 

One  Sabbath  a man  followed  them  at  a distance. 
From  the  hilltop  he  saw  them,  not  working,  but 
worshiping  the  foreign  God  and  singing  hymns  of 
praise.  When  this  spy  was  sure  of  what  they  were 
doing,  he  hurried  back  and  told  the  others  what  he 
had  learned.  On  the  return  of  the  Christians  at 
night  the  people  of  the  village  were  ready  to  re- 
ceive them.  They  accused  them  of  deceit,  and 
said  it  was  known  for  what  purpose  they  went 
away  every  seventh  day — that  they  were  still  wor- 
shiping this  foreign  God. 

The  truth  was  out ! The  idolaters  were  angry, 
even  furious,  and  the  Christians  saw  that  they 
must  prepare  for  trouble.  Their  enemies  would 
not  listen  to  rea.son,  and  would  allow  no  consulta- 
tion. They  must  choose  one  of  two  things — either 
giv'e  up  this  new  religion  or  leave  Thau  Pau.  In 
vain  did  the  Christians  plead  that  they  had  a right 
to  their  homes  and  lands  there. 

“ Iso,”  said  the  others  ; “ by  forsaking  the  wor- 
ship of  the  gods  and  the  spirits  of  the  dead  you 
will  bring  pestilence  and  death  upon  us.  By  serv- 
ing another  god  you  have  lost  all  your  rights  here. 
Give  up  this  god  or  your  rights  ! ” 

Time  was  given  until  the  next  morning,  when  the 
Christians  must  decide.  It  was  a sad  and  sleepless 
night  to  the  little  band  of  disciples ; earnest,  pit- 


THE  NEW  RELIGION  IN  THAU  PAU.  347 

ecus,  were  their  prayers  to  God  that  the  hearts  of 
their  enemies  might  be  turned  and  themselves  al- 
lowed to  stay  in  the  homes  so  dear  to  them.  If 
God  heard  prayer,  surely  he  must  hear  them,  they 
thought,  and  not  let  them  become  homeless  wan- 
derers. But  they  had  not  yet  learned  that  God 
answers  what  would  be  our  prayers  if  we  knew 
what  was  best  for  us. 

There  was  no  mercy  for  them  on  the  morrow. 

“Forsake  the  foreign  god  or  leave  Thau  Pau,” 
was  the  command  that  the  angry  villagers  gave 
them. 

As  Liong  looked  at  his  home  and  thought  of  his 
fields,  his  growing  crops  and  all  his  property,  he  be- 
gan to  understand  what  it  cost  to  be  a Christian — 
what  it  meant  to  leave  houses  and  lands  for  Christ’s 
sake.  Not  less  trying  to  the  others  were  the 
thoughts  of  leaving  home,  though  they  had  less 
to  give  up. 

“ Will  you  come  back  to  the  worshi2i  of  the 
gods?”  was  asked  of  them. 

“ No,”  said  Liong.  “ The  gods  of  our  country 
are  false,  and  we  will  not  worship  them  again. 
We  want  a better  God  than  they  are,  and  such  a 
one  we  have  found.  We  mean  to  serve  the  great 
and  true  God,  let  come  what  will.” 

“ But,”  said  one,  who  really  pitied  the  Christians 
and  wished  to  have  them  stay,  “you  will  lose 
everything — you  will  be  made  outcasts,  beggars — 
if  you  follow  this  god.” 


348 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


“ Then  we  will  be  beggars,”  answered  Liong. 

“ We  will  take  away  your  lands  ; we  will  drive 
you  from  your  homes;  we  will  put  a mark  upon 
you  that  will  make  you  hated  and  despised  by  all 
who  know  you,”  was  said,  » 

“ Then  you  must  do  all  these  things,  as  you 
threaten,  but  you  shall  not  take  the  doctrine  from 
us,”  replied  Liong. 

“You  will  be  left  without  food,  and  you  must 
starve,”  said  the  friend. 

“ True,”  replied  Liong,  “ you  may  starve  the 
life  out  of  our  bodies,  but  you  cannot  starve  the 
doctrine  out  of  our  souls.  AVe  will  not  give  up 
the  true  God.” 

“Then  leave  the  village!”  came  from  many  an 
angry  idolater.  “ But  go  out  quickly.  Never 
return  !” 

The  Christians  went  sorrowfully  to  their  homes 
to  gather  up  wliat  property  they  could  carry,  and 
to  lead  their  buffaloes  with  them, 

“ No,  no !”  said  their  enemies,  when  they  saw 
what  the  Christians  were  doing ; “ not  a buffalo, 
not  a hoe,  not  a single  tool,  shall  go  wdth  you  from 
the  village.  Go,  but  go  alone!  Your  wives,  your 
children,  and  clothing  for  them,  you  may  take,  but 
nothing  more.” 

The  buffaloes  were  taken  away  by  force  and 
led  back  to  the  stalls.  Everything  that  they  were 
carrying,  except  the  most  needed  articles,  was  for- 
cibly taken  from  them,  and  the  Christians  hurried 


THE  NEW  RELIGION  IN  THAU  PAU.  349 


from  the  village  with  the  angry  threats  of  an  en- 
raged mob. 

Homeless  wanderers ! For  the  sake  of  Christ 
these  Christians  were  leaving  everything  behind 
them  rather  than  forsake  the  new-found  God. 
AVere  they  not  in  earnest?  Did  they  not  believe 
in  God  ? Their  faith  was  not  that  triumphant 
trust  that  forgets  in  the  prospect  of  future  glory 
the  present  loss,  but  it  was  that  firm  trust  that, 
while  it  feels  the  sacrifice,  does  what  God  says  and 
asks  no  questions,  leaving  all  in  his  hands.  Out- 
casts— and  that  in  China  means  to  be  despised,  to 
be  friendless,  wherever  they  might  be  known — 
where  should  the  wanderers  go?  They  had  heard 
that  in  the  Foo  city  there  were  a number  of  Chris- 
tians who  had  a place  for  meeting  on  the  Sabbath 
and  who  were  allowed  to  worship  God  as  they 
chose.  Hoping  to  find  sympathy  and  some  one  to 
teach  them  the  new  doctrine  more  clearly,  they 
turned  their  footsteps  to  the  Foo  city. 

There  is  a brotherly  feeling  between  Christians 
in  heathen  countries  that  binds  more  closely,  per- 
haps, than  the  Christian  tie  does  in  gospel  lands. 
AVhen  these  persecuted  outcasts  found  the  Chris- 
tians of  the  Foo  city  and  told  their  story  and  their 
trust,  they  met  a warm  welcome.  Relatives  and 
friends  had  forsaken  them,  but  strangers  took  them 
in,  fed,  clothed  and  cared  for  them,  and  thus  proved 
that  God  does  not  forsake  his  people  even  in  their 
darkest  trials. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 


KHIAU. 


ET  us  go  back  a few  years  to  the  time  when 


Khiau  met  Leng  Tso  in  the  streets  of  the  Foo 
city.  The  sight  of  her  brought  back  to  him  a bit- 
ter remembrance  of  liis  disappointment  and  loss. 
When  he  turned  away  from  her  he  hurried  along 
the  streets  until  he  reached  his  place  of  business, 
hardly  noticing  anything,  and  thinking  of  nothing 
but  liCng  Tso.  His  partner.  Sun,  saw  that  some- 
thing troubled  him,  and  asked  the  cause.  Khiau 
at  last  told  his  whole  story,  and  said  that  he  had 
just  seen  Leng  Tso  in  the  house  of  a business  ac- 
quaintance named  Ta  Ban,  whose  wife  she  probably 
was  now. 

“Well,”  said  Sun,  who  was  the  warm  friend  as 
well  as  the  partner  of  Khiau,  “ if  she  is  married, 
that  ends  the  matter.  Is  this  the  reason  why  you 
have  never  married  ?” 

“Yes,”  replied  Khiau. 

“ But  you  were  not  bound  to  wait  for  her,”  said 
the  partner ; “ since  there  was  no  money  paid  down, 
there  was  no  bargain,  and  you  were  free.  You 
ought  to  have  got  a wife  long  ago.  You  know 


350 


KHIAU. 


351 


that  she  is  married  now;  why  not  get  a wife  at 
once?  You  have  plenty  of  money,  and  can  easily 
alford  to  get  a number  one  good  one — far  better 
than  Ta  Ban’s  woman,  and  one  who  will  honor 
you.” 

“ The  wife  of  Ta  Ban  is  good  enough  for  any 
man ; she  is  better  than  any  woman  I ever  saw, 
I know  that  I might  get  a wife  from  a better  family, 
but  I do  not  wish  any  one  else.  I had  set  my  heart 
on  this  one ; I love  her,  and  cannot  love  another.” 

“Cannot  love  another?  AVhat  matters  that?” 
said  Sun.  “What  difference  does  it  make  whether 
you  love  or  not?  Get  a good  wnfe,  and  you  will 
probably  like  her,  any  way.  Not  the  half  of  mar- 
ried men  love  their  wives;  that  is  just  as  it  happens.” 

“ My  heart  is  not  a piece  of  clay  of  which  I may 
make  any  shaped  brick  I choose,”  answered  Khiau ; 
“ it  is  the  house  of  my  life.  I do  not  want  ene- 
mies there,  nor  yet  ice  to  freeze  my  life.  I want 
a wife  for  whom  my  heart  will  make  a home,  and 
who  will  make  that  home  happy.  She  whom  I 
chose  when  a boy  would  do  that;  since  I cannot 
get  her,  I do  not  wish  any  other.” 

“ Perhaps  you  may  get  this  one  yet,”  said  the 
partner;  “her  husband  may  be  wdlling  to  sell  her 
for  a large  price : he  loves  money,  you  know. 
Then,  if  she  is  willing,  the  bargain  can  easily  be 
made,  and  yon  have  the  wife  of  your  choice.  But 
if  I were  you,  I would  get  a young  woman  who 
had  belonged  to  no  one.” 


352 


THE  CHiyESE  SLA  VE-GIRL. 


“ I did  not  think  of  tliat,”  replied  Khiau,  not 
noticing  the  last  remark  of  his  partner.  “We 
might  try,  but  I do  not  believe  that  her  husband 
Avill  sell  her,  for  I am  sure  that  she  is  a number 
one  good  wife;  she  was  always  good..  One  num- 
ber one  good  woman  is  worth  fifty  poor  ones,  even 
though  young.” 

“I  will  see  Ban  and  talk  the  matter  over  with 
him,”  said  Sun. 

When  Ban  was  asked  about  selling  his  wife  he 
.said  he  would  not ; she  was  one  of  the  best  that 
ever  lived,  and  he  would  not  sell  her  at  any 
price. 

“But  think!”  said  the  other;  “you  might  get 
enough  money  to  buy  two  young  and  pretty  wives 
for  yourself,  and  both  with  small  feet  besides. 
Then  you  might  yet  have  money  left  over,  for  the 
man  who  wants  to  buy  is  rich  and  will  give  a 
large  price.” 

“ No,”  said  Ban  ; “ I am  satisfied  with  the  wife 
I have.  1 did  not  believe  that  there  was  .such  a 
woman  in  the  world ; I am  sure  that  there  is  no 
other.  Goddesses  would  be  scarce  if  many  like  her 
were  sent  to  the  world.  But  even  if  I w'ex'e  will- 
ing, the  mother  of  my  boys  would  not  be ; she 
would  not  leave  me  and  her  children;  so  there  is 
no  need  of  talking  about  a bargain.  I like  money, 
but  I like  my  wife  better.” 

Khiau’s  partner  .saw'  that  Leng  Tso  could  not  be 
bought,  and  he  went  back  to  Khiau,  telling  him 


KHIA  U. 


353 


that  there  was  no  need  of  thinking  longer  of  this 
woman ; not  only  was  Ban  unwilling  to  part  with 
her,  but  she  would  not  consent  to  leave  him,  and 
of  course  nothing  more  could  be  done. 

“ The  woman  has  probably  forgotten  you  long 
before  this,  or  does  not  care  for  you  any  more. 
Get  a wife,  and  show  that  you  are  a man,  and  not 
bound  to  a woman  who  likes  another  better.” 

Sun  led  Khiau  to  believe  that  Leng  Tso  had 
refused  to  be  sold  that  she  might  become  his  wife, 
and  he  unwillingly  believed  that  she  did  not  care 
for  him.  He  knew,  from  her  look  and  words 
when  they  met  in  the  street,  that  she  had  not 
forgotten  him.  Urged  on  time  after  time  by 
his  partner,  Khiau  finally  allowed  a bargain  to 
be  made  and  a wife  to  be  bought  for  him. 

The  woman  he  married  was  worthy  of  Khiau. 
Unlike  most  of  the  women  in  China,  she  could 
read,  and  was  quite  well  educated ; besides,  she 
was  a woman  of  good  taste  and  culture.  Her 
family  had  been  wealthy,  but  misfortune  came ; 
the  father  died  and  left  his  family  in  poverty. 
Her  friends  hoped  to  engage  this  daughter  to  some 
wealthy  and  great  man,  but,  as  no  good  chance 
had  offered,  she  was  yet  unengaged  when  his  friend 
tried  to  get  her  for  Khiau’s  wife.  At  first  they 
would  not  listen.  She  was  of  too  noble  a family, 
they  said,  but  the  large  sura  of  money  offered,  and 
the  facts  that  Khiau  was  much  respected  and  was 
becoming  a rich  man,  procured  the  wife. 


354 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


Tlie  two  meu  were  successful  in  business  and 
rapidly  adding  to  their  wealth.  As  their  business 
increased  they  sent  agents  into  different  parts  of 
the  country ; one  of  these  came  in  hastily  one  day 
from  up  the  river,  and  told  that  the  rebel  army 
was  coming,  and  advised  them  to  move  their  goods 
and  leave  the  city  at  once.  He  said  it  was  quite 
certain  that  the  rebels  would  capture  the  city, 
for  they  had  taken  almost  every  place  they  had 
attacked. 

Khiau  told  his  wife  of  the  approach  of  the 
rebels  and  of  what  the  agent  had  said.  She 
urged  him  to  leave  at  once,  and  said  that  the  rebels 
would  kill  them  for  their  property  if  they  stayed. 
Neither  Sun  nor  Khiau  was  willing  to  leave,  but 
the  constant  entreaties  of  Khiau  So  made  her  hus- 
band think  that  it  would  be  safer  for  him  to  take 
his  wife  away  for  a while.  Being  of  one  of  the 
highest  families,  it  was  probable  that  the  Tai  Pings 
would  kill  her  if  they  saw  her.  Besides  these 
reasons,  business  did  call  one  of  the  partnei-s  to 
Ila  Bun  and  to  some  places  north  of  that  city. 

Khiau  went  to  attend  to  this  busineas,  and  took 
his  wife  along ; he  also  took  a considerable  sum 
of  money  with  him  for  the  business.  The  rebels 
appeared  before  the  city  a few  days  after  they  left, 
and  Khiau  heard  not  long  after  that  they  had 
captured  and  almost  destroyed  the  great  Foo  city. 
The  news  that  reached  him  was  far  worse  than  the 
facts,  and  Khiau  dared  not  go  back  while  the  rebels 


KHIA  U. 


355 


remained,  even  though  he  feai’ed  that  all  his  prop- 
erty there  would  be  lost. 

One  day,  while  staying  in  a town  north  of  Ha 
Bun,  he  happened  to  stroll  into  a Christian  chapel 
where  a missionary  was  preaching.  While  at  Au 
Lam,  Khiau  had  heard  of  the  foreign  religion,  and 
he  knew  that  there  was  a Christian  chapel  in  the 
Foo  city,  but  he  did  not  care  enough  about  any 
religion  to  go  to  any  of  the  temples,  much  less  to 
hear  about  that  from  a foreign  country.  Having 
nothing  else  to  do  now,  he  stopped  to  listen.  The 
text  was  “ Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor  and  are 
heavy  laden,  and  I will  give  you  rest.” 

The  preacher  spoke  of  Christ  as  the  great 
burden-bearer  for  men,  and  asked  if  there  were 
any  present  who  were  carrying  a load  of  sorrow 
on  their  hearts,  saying  that  Jesus  would  take  it 
away.  Khiau  thought  of  the  loss  of  his  property, 
and  then  thought  of  his  great  sorrow  and  disap- 
pointment in  losing  Leng  Tso.  He  did  not  think 
it  possible  that  any  one  could  take  away  those 
sorrows  except  by  giving  back  what  he  had 
lost. 

As  the  preacher  went  on  and  told  of  the  greater 
burden  of  sin,  Khiau  was  ready  to  turn  away; 
what  was  said  did  not  apply  to  him:  he  was  not 
a sinner.  Yet  he  listened  ; and  as  the  missionary 
told  one  after  another  of  the  acts  of  his  life,  and 
showed  that  they  were  not  only  sins  against  right, 
but  sins  against  God,  Khiau  wondered  how  that 


356 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


foreign  stranger  knew  so  mnch  about  his  own  life. 
If  the  man  knew,  then  surely  the  great  Upper 
Killer,  whom  the  missionary  said  was  the  only  true 
God,  must  know.  Khiau  was  troubled.  He  saw 
that  he  was  a sinner,  and  he  wanted  a Saviour. 

We  need  not  describe  his  feelings,  nor  yet  his 
struggles.  He  became  a Christian,  was  baptized 
and  became  a member  of  the  church,  and  not  long 
after  his  wife  too  became  a faithful  Christian. 

After  the  rebels  left  the  Foo  city,  Khiau,  leaving 
his  wife  with  their  Christian  friends,  went  up  to 
his  old  home  to  see  what  had  become  of  his  part- 
ner and  their  business.  Fearful  as  the  news  of  the 
capture  of  the  city  by  the  rebels  was,  the  reality 
after  the  government  had  again  taken  possession 
was  more  terrible.  Khiau  found  the  city  almost 
in  ruins.  Where  his  own  home  had  been,  and 
where  his  large  stores  had  stood,  there  was  utter 
ruin  and  desolation.  He  could  learn  nothing 
about  his  partner,  and  it  was  quite  certain  that  he 
with  his  family  had  been  killed.  No  one  could 
tell  anything  about  the  property.  Whether  it  had 
been  burned,  destroyed  in  other  ways  or  stolen, 
Khiau  never  knew ; but  he  did  learn  that,  aside 
from  the  money  he  took  with  him  when  he  left 
the  city,  he  was  a poor  man.  He  saw  that  it 
would  be  useless  to  begin  business  amid  the  ruins 
of  the  city ; so,  taking  a sorrowful  look  at  the 
remains  of  his  home  and  bidding  farewell  to  the 
few  who  remained  of  the  numerous  friends  he  had 


KHIA  U. 


857 


left  a few  months  before,  he  started  for  the  village 
where  his  wife  was  staying,  thinking  that  he  might 
begin  business  there. 

When  he  first  came  into  the  desolated  city  he 
did  not  forget  to  go  to  the  street  where  he  had  seen 
Leng  Tso.  The  home  of  Ban,  as  well  as  his  shop, 
had  been  destroyed,  and  Khiau  felt  sure  that  Leng 
Tso  and  her  family  had  perished  in  the  capture  of 
the  city.  Before  leaving  he  turned  to  that  street 
to  take  a last  look  at  the  place  where  she  had  lived. 
As  he  stood  before  the  ruins  of  the  house  he 
thought  of  those  happy  days  in  Thau  Pau,  of  his 
struggles,  of  his  hopes  and  disappointments,  of  the 
lingering  hope  that  he  would  some  time  meet  her 
again  and  she  yet  become  his  wife. 

“No,”  said  he  to  himself;  “it  cannot  be  now. 
She  is  dead — lost  to  me;  and  she  died  without 
hope ! Oh  that  some  one  had  told  her  of  Jesus 
before  she  died ! She  would  have  accepted  him. 
She  then  would  not  have  been  lost  to  me.  I saved, 
she — Where  ? But  she  is  dead  now ; why  should 
I think  of  her  any  more?  I have  a wife — a trne, 
good,  noble  one,  second  only  to  Leng  Tso.  I will 
pray  God  to  help  me  to  forget  Leng  Tso  and  to 
love  my  wife  as  she  deserves.  But  if  1 could  only 
know  that  Ijeng  Tso  was  saved  ! No,  no ! I must 
no  longer  think  of  her ;”  and  he  hurriedly  turned 
away  and  hastened  from  the  city. 

When  Khiau  told  his  wife  that  all  their  prop- 
erty in  the  Foo  city  was  lost  she  said, 


3o8 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


“We  have  something  better  than  money.  By 
leaving  our  property  in  tlie  Foo  city  we  gained  an 
eternal  inhei'itance.  Let  us  thank  God  for  the 
exchange.’' 

Khiau  could  hardly  feel  the  loss  of  his  wealth 
when  he  saw  how  cheerfully  his  wife  bore  it.  As 
they  talked  together  about  the  future  she  said, 

“ We  have  some  money  left;  while  that  lasts  can- 
not you  fit  yourself  to  work  in  the  Lord’s  cause? 
AVheu  you  are  ready  perhaps  the  teachers  will 
find  something  for  you  to  do,  and  allow  you  enough 
salary  to  provide  us  with  food  and  clothing.  Per- 
haps your  wealth  has  been  taken  away  to  lead 
you  to  just  this  work.  We  have  no  family;  why 
cannot  vou  and  I gather  a spiritual  family  for 
heaven  f ’ 

“But  what  can  I do?”  asked  Khiau.  “I  am 
not  educated.” 

“ I am,”  she  replied.  “ I can  teach  you  all  I 
know,  and  you  may  study  with  the  preacher  of 
the  chajDel.  When  you  are  prepared  it  may  be 
that  the  pastors  will  need  you  to  be  a chapel- 
keeper  and  to  help  preach.  If  they  do  not,  you 
can  then  ask  the  Lord  for  some  other  work.  While 
you  are  preparing  we  can  both  do  some  good  in  the 
village  here.” 

“True,”  said  Khiau.  “Though  I am  not  wor- 
thy of  the  exalted  office  of  a preacher,  or  even  of 
a chapel-keeper,  yet  I may  be  fitted  to  do  some 
good ; and  one  soul  saved  is  worth  more  than  ten 


KHIA  U. 


359 


thousand  fortunes.  They  might  all  be  lost;  a 
saved  soul,  never.” 

Khiau  began  at  once  to  study.  He  had  learned 
to  read  a little  when  a boy,  and  in  business  had 
been  compelled  to  learn  more,  so  that  he  was  not 
entirely  without  education.  At  first  it  w'as  hard 
work  to  study ; he  was  over  fifty  years  old,  and 
it  was  late  for  him  to  become  a student.  While 
studying  he  did  not  forget  the  object  of  study. 
If  any  work  in  the  church  needed  to  be  done  and 
no  one  else  was  ready,  Khiau  was,  no  matter  how 
humble  the  duty  might  be.  If  a preacher  were 
sick  or  did  not  come  when  expected,  the  people 
soon  learned  to  look  to  Khiau  to  supply  his  place. 
If  any  one  were  needed  for  a Sabbath  in  some 
small  chapel,  he  was  ready  to  go.  The  mission- 
aries soon  noticed  his  willingness  and  ability,  and 
were  glad  of  his  help.  To  make  his  money  last 
the  longer,  Khiau  was  ready  to  do  anything  that 
was  honest  if  it  did  not  take  him  too  much  from 
study  and  gospel  work.  In  this  way  he  spent 
several  years. 

It  happened  that  the  preacher  in  the  chapel  of 
the  Foo  city  was  changed,  another  taking  his  place. 
The  chapel-keeper,  too,  was  old,  and  it  was  thought 
best  to  send  him  where  he  would  have  less  to  do, 
and  to  appoint  a younger  man  in  his  place.  At 
once  the  missionaries  chose  Khian.  Tellingc  him 
that  they  had  but  little  money  to  pay,  they  asked 
if  he  would  be  chapel-keeper  and  help  the  preach- 


360 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-GIRL. 


er  teach  the  people  at  a salary  of  three  dollars  a 
month. 

“ If  you  can  use  me  I am  ready  to  do  any- 
thing. I should  not  ask  for  any  pay,  hut,  as  the 
money  we  saved  is  nearly  gone,  we  will  soon  need 
something  for  food  and  clothing,”  replied  Khiau. 
“Three  dollars  a month  will  buy  that  for  two,  if 
we  are  very  careful.  I began  to  work  for  myself 
and  to  set  another  captive  free  on  less  money  than 
that,  and  why  should  not  I serve  the  Master  for 
more,  when  my  work  will  be  to  set  the  ten  thou- 
.sand  captives  free  from  an  eternal  slavery?” 

It  was  a small  salary  for  one  who  had  com- 
manded his  thousands  of  dollars,  but  not  for  a 
moment  did  Khiau  or  his  wife  think  of  complain- 
ing. They  Avere  working  for  souls,  not  money; 
they  did  not  expect  to  be  rewarded  on  earth,  but 
in  heaven.  Soon  after  Iveng  Tso  left  the  Foo  city 
Khiau  moved  there  as  chapel-keeper  and  assistant 
preacher. 

Leng  Tso  seemed  so  much  needed  in  the  village 
that  she  felt  it  her  duty  to  stay  there  for  some 
months,  and  now  that  she  had  found  her  son  she 
did  not  wish  to  go  back  until  he  could  go  with  her. 
Every  Sabbath,  very  early  in  the  morning,  he  was 
in  the  village  to  spend  the  day  in  worshiping  God 
and  enjoying  the  company  of  his  mother.  He  de- 
termined to  keep  the  agreement  made  with  his 
employer,  but  looked  anxiously  forward  to  the 
time  when  he  would  be  free  to  live  with  his  mo- 


KHIAU. 


361 


ther  altogether.  She  resolved  to  wait  until  this 
time  came,  and  then  they  two  would  go  back  to 
the  Foo  city  to  live. 

When  Lin  had  finished  his  work  they  started, 
taking  a roundabout  course  for  their  old  home. 
Near  night  they  came  to  a village  stretching  along 
the  water  and  shaded  by  a large  banyan  tree. 
Here  they  stayed  for  the  night.  Whilst  here 
Leng  Tso  said  to  a woman  whom  she  met, 

“ It  seems  to  me  as  though  I had  lieen  dream- 
ing, and  in  my  dreams  I lived  in  a village  like 
this,  standing  near  the  water  and  sheltered  by  a 
large  banyan  tree.” 

Upon  the  woman  asking  where  she  had  first 
lived,  Leng  Tso  told  her  what  she  remembered 
of  her  being  sold  as  a slave  in  early  childhood — 
that  she  could  recall  it  rather  because  So  Chim  had 
talked  to  her  of  it  many  years  ago  than  because 
she  could  remember  the  events  themselves.  But 
Leng  Tso  could  not  recollect  the  name  of  the  vil- 
lage, nor  yet  her  father’s  name,  though  she  remem- 
bered the  names  of  her  two  brothers,  and  of  course 
her  own  name  she  had  not  forgotten.  When  she 
spoke  the  names  of  “ lau  ” and  “ Seng,”  the  woman 
asked, 

“ Was  it  Li  Seng  and  Li  lau  ?” 

“ I do  not  know,”  said  Leng  Tso ; “ I only  know 
that  their  names  were  Sen^  and  lau.  Seng  was 
the  olde.st  and  I the  youngest  of  the  family.” 

“ There  is  a village  down  the  river  some  dis- 


362 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


tance,”  said  the  woman,  “ that  looks  something 
like  this;  it  stands  near  the  water,  and  it  has  a 
large  tree  too.  That  was  my  home  before  I was 
married,  and  when  I lived  there  I knew  a widow, 
Chiap  So,  who  had  two  boys  named  Seng  and  lau. 
Seng  was  the  older,  but  there  was  no  little  girl.” 

“Do  yon  know  anything  about  them  now?” 
asked  Leng  Tso.  “ Is  this  Chiap  Chim  alive  yet? 
and  are  her  sons  still  there?  They  may  be  my 
mother  and  brothers.” 

“ I do  not  know  whether  Chiap  Chim  is  alive 
now  or  not,”  said  the  woman,  “ but  Ian  was  living 
a few  years  ago  in  Ha  Bun,  where  he  had  become  a 
wealthy  man.  Seng,  I heard,  had  gone  off  to  a 
foreign  country,  and  for  a long  time  nothing  had 
been  heard  from  him.” 

Leng  Tso  could  not  help  hoping  that  Chiap 
Chim  was  her  own  mother,  and  told  her  son  that 
early  the  next  morning  they  would  go  to  the  vil- 
lage of  Kau  Cham  and  see  if  perchance  that  had 
been  her  childhood’s  home. 

Early  the  next  day  the  two  were  on  their  way  to 
that  village.  As  they  came  in  sight  of  it  Leng  Tso 
said  to  her  son, 

“ I seem  to  be  awaking  and  finding  my  dream  true. 
This  village  looks  as  I dreamed  my  home  was.” 

They  asked  some  of  the  people  if  Li  Seng  or 
Li  lau  lived  there. 

“ No,”  was  the  reply,  “ though  they  did  many 
years  ago.  Seng  went  to  a foreign  country,  and 


KHIA  U. 


363 


never  came  back.  lau  lives  in  the  city  of  Ha  Bun, 
where  he  has  become  a rich  man.” 

“ Is  their  mother  yet  living  ?”  anxiously  asked 
Leng  Tso — “ Chiap  Chim  ?” 

“ Yes;  she  lives  in  that  large  fine  house  beyond 
there.” 

Eagerly  the  two  hurried  on  to  the  place  pointed 
out,  and,  upon  asking  for  Chiap  Chim,  were  di- 
rected to  an  old  woman  sitting  in  an  easy-chair  in 
one  of  the  rooms.  Leng  Tso’s  heart  trembled  with 
excitement,  for  she  believed  that  this  was  her  old 
home  and  this  her  mother.  Respectfully  approach- 
ing the  old  lady,  Leng  Tso,  after  the  usual  cere- 
monies demanded  by  Chinese  custom,  asked  if  she 
were  Chiap  Chim  and  the  mother  of  Li  Seng  and 
Li  lau. 

“Yes,”  said  she,  “ but  Seng  has  gone  to  the 
world  of  spirits.”  - 

“Have  you  no  other  children  ?”  Leng  Tso  asked. 
“ Xone,”  was  answered  ; “ there  is  only  one  left.” 
“Did  you  ever  have  any  others — any  daugh- 
ters ?” 

“ Yes,”  said  she,  and  tears  came  to  her  eyes  ; “ I 
had  one  little  one.  It  was  my  own  heart  born  into 
life  and  into  a daughter’s  body,  but  she  is  gone — 
gone  for  ever.  Yearly  fifty  times  the  years  have 
come  and  passed  since  she  was  torn  from  me  and 
sold  to  a stranger,  that  we  might  have  food  to  keep 
us  from  starving.  It  was  a terrible  famine  ! Des- 
olation was  everywhere,  but  the  greatest  desolation 


364 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


was  in  the  mother’s  heart  when  she  missed  the  rain 
and  sunshine  of  her  life.” 

“What  was  the  name  of  the  little  girl?”  asked 
Long  Tso,  hardly  able  to  control  her  voice  or  keep 
from  throwing  herself  on  the  neck  of  her  mother, 
for  such  she  believed  Chiap  Chim  to  be. 

“ Her  name  was  Leng  Tso,”  said  the  mother, 
“and  she  was  my  brightness;  but  my  brightness 
quickly  passed  away.” 

“ Mother ! my  mother !”  sobbed  Leng  Tso  as 
she  threw  herself  on  her  mother’s  neck.  “ I am 
Ivcng  Tso ! Your  little  girl  has  come  back  to  her 
mother’s  heart.  Will  you  take  me  again?” 

“ What  do  you  say?  You  my  girl?  You  Leng 
Tso?  No,  no,  it  cannot  be!  She  was  a little  girl. 
She  was  lost  long,  long  ago.  I never  heard  from 
her  after  she  left  me.  You  are  a woman  and  old. 
It  cannot  be.” 

“ But,  mother,”  said  Leng  Tso,  “ it  is  fifty  years 
since  your  little  girl  was  sold  as  a slave;  during 
those  years  she  has  grown  to  be  a woman.  Years 
and  sorrows  have  made  her  old,  but  hers  is  the  same 
heart  that  was  torn  away  from  a mother’s  life  and 
love  so  long  ago.” 

“Is  it  true?”  asked  the  old  woman.  “Has  my 
little  girl  come  back  again?  Are  you  the  sister 
of  lau  and  Seng?” 

“ Yes,  mother,  the  same  ; I was  once  your  little 
girl.  May  I be  yours  again  ? Oh,  may  I?” 

Slowly  the  mind  of  the  old  woman  passed  over 


KHIA  U. 


365 


that  gap  of  fifty  years,  and  she  began  to  realize  that 
the  woman  before  her  might  be  the  little  child  that 
was ; and  then  the  mother’s  instinct  told  her  that 
this  was  Leng  Tso.  As  though  a child  again  the 
daughter  was  welcomed  back,  and  it  seemed  as  if 
the  mother  again  bound  the  cords  of  her  life,  so 
rudely  severed  half  a century  before,  to  the  life  of 
her  child.  Long,  tender  and  sacred  was  the  em- 
brace that  held  the  child  to  the  mother’s  bosom. 
Silently  each  seemed  to  be  drinking  from  that  foun- 
tain of  love  that  had  to  them  been  sealed  for  those 
many  years,  and  the  souls  so  thirsty,  the  hearts  so 
long  starving  for  a mother’s,  a daughter’s  love,  had 
at  last  found  the  fountain  and  the  food  for  which 
they  had  craved,  fevered,  famished. 

When  at  last  the  arms  slowly  unclasped  and  the 
daughter  could  look  into  the  mother’s  face,  she  said 
softly, 

“ Mother — my  own  mother — God  has  been  good 
to  me.  He  has  watched  over  me  during  those  long 
years  of  sorrow.  Let  us  thank  him  now.” 

Without  waiting  for  a reply  Leng  Tso  kneeled, 
and  with  her  head  in  her  mother’s  lap,  as  though  a 
child  again,  remained  for  a few  moments  silent,  as 
if  she  would  have  the  fingers  of  God  touch  first 
the  chords  of  her  spirit  and  draw  from  them  the 
deep  gratitude  that  words  failed  to  utter.  Then 
her  lips  softly  spoke  of  the  joy  and  the  thankful- 
ness that  were  thrilling  her  soul.  When  she  rose 
from  her  knees  and  looked  again  in  the  aged  face 


366 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-GIRL. 


of  her  mother,  she  saw  that  a look  of  sorrow  was 
there — sorrow  shading  tlie  joy. 

“ Has  my  daughter  come  back  a worshiper  of 
the  foreign  God  too  ?”  she  said  mournfully.  “lau 
has  deserted  the  worship  of  his  fathers,  and  his 
children  are  following  in  his  steps.  Kow  Leng 
Tso  comes  to  me  a worshiper  of  the  same  God. 
Oh,  who  will  care  for  the  spirit  of  the  poor  old 
woman  when  she  passes  beyond  the  house  and  the 
banyan-shade  and  the  cooling  waters?  When  the 
light  grows  dim  and  the  shadows  of  the  spirit- 
world  thicken  around  her,  when  in  the  strange  dark 
land  she  seeks  a path  in  vain,  when  her  naked  body 
fails  to  find  clothing,  and  her  thirsty  spirit  is  parched 
for  water,  and  her  hungry  soul  starves  for  lack  of 
food,  will  she  have  no  children  on  earth  to  light 
her  in  the  dark  way,  none  to  clothe,  none  to  feed, 
not  one  to  give  drink  to  the  parched  spirit?  Oh, 
my  children,  can  you  so  desert  her  who  gave  you 
life?” 

“ IMother,  dear  mother,”  said  Leng  Tso,  “ there 
is  a world  beyond  death  that  is  far  better  than  tliat 
gloomy  land  of  which  you  speak.  There  the  souls 
need  no  care  from  those  who  remain  in  this  life, 
but  are  far  better  cared  for  than  they  were  in  this 
world.” 

“Ah!  that  is  the  foreign  religion,”  said  the 
mother.  “lau  has  told  me  of  it — his  son  has;  but 
I am  too  old  to  change  now.” 

“ Mother,  you  are  not  too  old.  I was  more  than 


KHIA  U. 


367 


forty  years  old  when  I first  heard  it,  and  if  I were 
a hundred  years  old  I know  that  I would  not  be 
too  old  to  change.  It  is  just  the  religion  for  those 
who  ai’e  old.” 

“So  Ian  has  told  me.  But  I don’t  wish  to 
change.  Yet — yet  I did  tell  lau,”  said  the  old 
woman,  as  though  recalling  something  that  was 
not  pleasant  to  her,  “ that  I would  change  if  the 
foreign  God  brought  my  Leng  Tso  back  to  me. 
lau  said  that  he  and  his  family  would  pray  to  his 
God  for  me,  and  would  pray,  too,  that  you  might 
be  brought  back.  Now  you  have  come  back,  can 
it  be  that  lau’s  God  has  brought  you?” 

“ Yes,  mother,  he  has.  I have  prayed  to  see  you 
again  if  you  were  yet  alive,  and  God  has  brought 
me  to  you.” 

The  appearance  of  her  daughter,  and  seemingly 
in  answer  to  the  prayers  of  her  children  to  the  for- 
eign God,  after  she  henself  had  prayed  so  many 
years  in  vain  to  idols,  almost  convinced  the  mother 
that  the  foreigners’  God  was  the  true  God,  and  her 
own  false. 

Leng  Tso,  in  the  excitement  of  meeting  her 
mother,  had  forgotten  to  introduce  Lin,  who  re- 
mained outside.  When  he  was  brought  in  and 
had  been  warmly  welcomed  by  his  grandmother, 
the  old  lady  asked  how  he  came  to  have  that  scar 
on  his  head.  This  brought  out  the  story  of  his 
own  conversion  and  persecution. 

“All  of  my  children  are  leaving  ray  god.s,”  said 


368 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


Chiap  Chim,  “but  a God  who  will  hear  them  and 
bring  them  back  to  my  sight  and  heart  is  a greater 
one  than  any  I have  ever  known  ; and  a God  whom 
my  children  love  so  well  that  they  would  die  for 
him  must  be  a better  one  than  any  I worship,” 

Leng  Tso  and  her  son,  thinking  that  it  would  be 
well  to  let  the  mother’s  own  thoughts  lead  her,  said 
little  more  about  the  gospel  at  this  time.  Anxious 
to  know  the  history  of  the  family  during  those 
many  years,  the  daughter  was  ready,  in  reply  to 
her  mother’s  questions,  to  tell  her  own  story.  Then 
the  mother  told  what  they  had  suffered. 

Shortly  after  the  famine  the  father  died  and  left 
the  mother  to  care  for  the  two  boys.  For  several 
years  they  struggled  with  poverty  and  want.  The 
hopes  of  the  boys  that  they  would  be  able  to  buy 
back  the  little  sister  grew  faint,  and  gradually  died 
out.  When  they  became  men  it  was  yet  a struggle 
to  keep  starvation  away,  and  Seng,  hearing  that 
money  was  made  in  the  foreign  country,  resolved 
to  go  there  that  he  might  earn  enough  to  support 
his  mother,  and,  if  she  could  be  found,  to  bring 
his  sister  back.  For  some  time  he  sent  word  home 
each  year,  and  with  it  enough  money  to  support 
his  mother  for  a year.  lau  had  in  the  mean  time 
gone  to  Ha  Bun  to  learn  the  carpenter’s  trade. 
After  a few  years  no  news  came  from  Seng,  and 
the  money  stopped.  Long  ago  Seng  had  been 
given  up  for  dead,  and  the  mother  and  lau  had 
ceased  to  mourn  for  him. 


KHTA  U. 


369 


lau,  as  soon  as  he  had  leai’ned  his  trade,  found 
plenty  of  work,  and  not  only  supported  himself, 
but  also  sent  enough  money  to  support  his  mother. 
After  a few  years  he  married,  and  about  the  same 
time  became  a Christian.  AVhen  he  had  earned  a 
little  money  he  went  into  the  lumber-trade,  and 
then  took  contracts  for  building  houses,  and  soon 
became  a man  of  large  business.  Now  he  was  rich. 

“ This  house,”  said  the  mother  proudly,  “ he 
built  for  me.  It  is  the  finest  in  the  village,  and 
he  gives  me  enough  money  to  live  as  well  as  I 
choose.  lau  is  a good  son  and  never  forgets  his 
mother,  though  it  seemed  to  me  that  he  was  very 
cruel  and  wicked  when  he  deserted  the  gods  of  his 
father.  Perhaps  it  was  wise.  It  was  if  it  brought 
my  daughter  back  to  me.” 

lau  now  had  several  children,  two  or  three  of 
them  grown  up,  and  one,  the  oldest  son,  the  grand- 
mother said,  had  become  a preacher. 

“ He  often  visits  me  and  tells  me  about  the  new  - 
doctrine,  and  tries  to  lead  me  to  it.  He  is  a good 
and  kind  son.  Perhaps  he  is  right.  This  new 
doctrine  may  be  the  one  for  me.  I will  think 
about  it.  You  say  that  you  have  lived  in  the  Foo 
city,  and  that  you  went  to  the  foreign  chapel  there, 
my  daughter.  Did  you  not  see  my  grandson,  my 
Kin  Liong?” 

“ Is  he  Ian’s  son,  mother — Kin  Liong,  the 
preacher?”  asked  Leng  Tso  in  surprise. 

“Yes;  he  is  lau’s  oldest  .son.” 

24 


370 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


“ Kin  Liong ! . Why,  he  is  the  preacher  who 
came  to  the  chapel  soon  after  I began  to  attend 
the  worship ! And  it  was  the  son  of  my  own 
brother  lau  who  preached  to  me  tlie  doctrine  and 
helped  me  understand  the  way  to  Jesus!  Had  I 
not  heard  the  doctrine,  I would  never  have  come 
here,  and  would  never  have  seen  my  mother  again. 
Oh,  mother,  God  is  good.  I wish  that  you  loved 
him  too,  and  that  you  would  trust  in  Jesus  for 
salvation.’^ 

“ Perhaps  I will,  my  daughter.  A God  who 
finds  my  child,  and  sends  her  back  to  me  after  we 
had  tried  in  vain  to  find  her,  is  worthy  of  my 
heart.  Some  day  I will  serve  him.  But  I am 
old ; I must  begin  soon.  I will  begin  now.’’ 

From  this  time  Leng  Tso’s  mother  began  to 
serve  God.  Not,  however,  until  her  children  had 
taught  her  moi’e  plainly  the  way  did  she  become 
a Christian. 

For  many  days  Leng  Tso  and  her  son  stayed 
with  her  mother,  and  before  they  could  send  word 
to  lau  to  visit  them  he  happened  to  stop  on  his 
way  up  the  river  on  business.  His  surprise  and 
delight  to  find  his  sister  were  only  equaled  by  his 
joy  at  knowing  that  she  too  was  a Christian.  lau 
then  told  her  that  when  he  was  able  to  buy  her 
freedom  he  could  not  learn  Avhere  she  was.  Hou 
had  given  another  name  than  that  of  Thau  Pau  as 
his  home,  and  had  not  told  his  own  real  name;  so 
they  had  looked  in  vain  to  find  the  lost  one. 


KHIA  U. 


371 


Those  days  spent  with  her  mother  were  happy 
ones  to  Leng  Tso.  She  could  hardly  realize  that 
she  was  almost  an  old  woman  instead  of  being  a 
child.  She  seemed  to  start  her  child-life  just 
w'here  it  was  broken  oflP  fifty  years  before. 

She  could  not,  however,  remain  idle  even  for 
a few  weeks.  Her  well-worn  Testament  did  ser- 
vice again  as  she  went  from  house  to  house  read- 
ing the  truths  that  she  had  read  so  often  before. 
Hardly  one  of  the  people  remembered  her,  but 
her  history  was  so  interesting  that  each  woman  and 
child  w'as  ready  to  listen  to  it;  and  when  it  was 
told  in  her  pleasant  and  yet  touching  way,  many 
could  not  keep  back  their  tears.  When  brought 
into  sympathy  with  her,  they  were  all  the  more 
ready  to  listen  to  what  she  told  about  the  new 
doctrine.  The  gospel  had  been  preached  in  their 
village  before  by  men,  but  the  women  and  chikh-en 
had  not  heard  it.  What  Leng  Tso  said  was  new 
to  them,  as  it  would  be  to  the  women  and  children 
in  thousands  of  villages  in  China,  even  though 
there  might  be  Christian  chapels  in  their  own 
village.  The  customs  of  Chinese  society  forbid 
women  to  go  out  into  the  streets,  and  unless  some 
one  like  Leng  Tso  carries  the  gospel  into  their 
very  homes,  many  will  live  and  die  almost  within 
sound  of  it,  and  yet  never  hear  of  Jesus. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 


MEETING  OF  OLD  FRIENDS. 

HIAU  had  just  become  settled  in  the  Foo 


city  when  there  appeared  one  morning  at 
the  door  of  the  chapel  a company  of  men,  women 
and  children  who  asked  if  that  were  the  place 
where  people  worshiped  Jesus  Christ,  the  great 
God  of  the  foreigners. 

“ Yes,”  replied  Khiau  ; “come  in  and  sit  down.” 

“ Then  w’e  are  right,”  said  the  man  who  seemed 
to  be  the  leader  as  he  turned  to  the  rest  of  the 
company.  “ Thank  God,  we  are  safe  at  last ! If 
a place  to  worship  God  is  allowed,  then  we  too 
may  stay  and  worship  him.” 

“Who  are  you?”  asked  Khiau  as  the  people 
came  into  the  chapel. 

“ AVe  are  woi-shipers  of  the  great  God,  and  hav'e 
been  driven  from  our  home  because  we  would  no 
longer  serve  idols,”  was  answered  by  the  leader. 

“Where  is  your  home?”  inquired  the  chapel- 
keeper. 

“ It  is  a village  called  Thau  Pau,  up  the  river, 
near  the  mountains.” 

“Thau  Pau?”  said  Khiau,  who  could  not  help 


.372 


MEETING  OF  OLD  FRIENDS. 


373 


thinking,  while  the  leader  was  speaking,  that  he  had 
seen  some  of  these  men  before,  “ Thau  Pan ! and  is  not 
your  name  Liong?  and  are  not  these  Gan  and  Sun?” 
“It  is  so,”  replied  Liong,  for  it  was  he  who 
spoke ; “ we  bear  those  names.” 

But  it  was  quite  certain  that  none  of  them 
knew  Khiau.  For  the  moment  he  could  hardly 
keep  back  the  old  love  for  fun,  and  the  wish  to 
know  what  they  thought  had  become  of  himself, 
and  what  kind  of  a boy  they  had  thought  him 
when  in  Thau  Pau  with  them.  But  then,  remem- 
bering that  they  were  in  trouble,  and  that  he  was 
there  as  a chapel-keeper  and  preacher  to  help  all 
whom  he  could,  he  said, 

“ You  have  forgotten  your  old  friend  Khiau, 
have  you?” 

“ Khiau !”  replied  Liong.  “ No ; not  entirely 
forgotten  him,  though  we  have  not  seen  him  for 
many  years.” 

“ I am  Khiau,”  said  the  chapel-keeper — “ the 
same  who  once  played  with  you  under  the  old  ban- 
yan tree  in  the  court  of  Thau  Pau.” 

Warm  and  hearty  was  the  greeting  between 
Khiau  and  his  friends,  and  all  the  more  so  that 
they  were  outcasts  for  the  sake  of  Christ. 

Khiau  welcomed  them  to  the  chapel,  and  told 
them  to  make  that  and  the  rooms  behind  their 
home  until  better  places  could  be  found  in  the 
city.  After  they  had  told  their  story  he  gave  his 
history,  and  said  that,  as  he  and  his  wife  had  only 


374 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


just  come  to  the  city,  they  were  yet  boarding,  and 
had  no  place  of  their  own  to  which  they  could  wel- 
come the  homeless  Christians. 

“ But,”  said  he,  “ there  are  quite  a number  of 
followers  of  Jesus  in  the  city,  and  they  will,  for  the 
Lord’s  sake,  gladly  receive  you  until  you  can  find 
work  and  homes.  The  gospel  opens  the  hearts  of 
men  and  makes  all  brothers.” 

The  more  than  twenty  refugees  found  the  chapel 
and  the  little  room  behind  but  a narrow  home. 
But  Chinese  can  make  themselves  comfortable  with 
little  room  and  few  comforts. 

At  the  evening  worship  in  the  chapel,  attended 
by  a number  of  the  Christians,  the  people  from  Thau 
Pan  found  themselves  received  with  as  much  kind- 
ness as  if  they  had  been  brothers  and  sisters  of  the 
Christians  in  the  city.  These  people  of  the  Foo 
city  had  not  forgotten  how  they  had  once  been  per- 
secuted for  giving  up  idols,  and  their  hearts  were 
oj)en  at  once  to  those  who  were  now  enduring  per- 
secution. As  many  as  could  took  some  of  the  new- 
comers to  their  homes,  while  the  rest  still  remained 
in  the  chapel. 

The  outcasts  were  delighted  to  join  other  be- 
lievers in  the  worship  of  the  true  God.  They  al- 
most forgot  their  losses  when  they  united  in  the 
song  of  praise.  But  one  song  would  not  satisfy, 
nor  two,  nor  yet  six.  Liong  as  well  as  others  loved 
to  sing,  and  felt  that  they  could  do  it.  Now  that  a 
good  opportunity  offered  they  enjoyed  it  with  all 


MEETING  OF  OLD  FRIENDS. 


375 


their  power.  It  was  not  merely  evening  worship, 
but  a service  of  song  and  prayer  long  continued, 
that  they  held  that  night.  If  the  tune  was  not 
followed  by  all,  and  the  time  not  the  same  Avith 
each  singer,  yet  their  hearts  praised  God.  He  does 
not  care  so  much  about  the  music,  but  does  care 
for  praises  that  come  from  the  heart.  It  was 
this  kind  of  praise  that  reached  heaven  from  that 
little  chapel  in  China. 

The  Christians  of  the  Foo  city,  though  willing 
to  share  Avhat  they  had,  were  too  poor  to  support 
the  refugees,  and  one  by  one  these  found  something 
to  do  by  which  they  might  earn  their  food,  hoping 
that  in  some  Avay  God  would  enable  them  to  return 
to  their  homes  in  Thau  Pan. 

Let  us  now  turn  back  for  a few  moments  to  Leng 
Tso. 

After  staying  several  weeks  with  her  mother, 
Leng  Tso  said  one  day, 

“ I must  go  up  to  see  my  friends  and  the  church 
at  the  Foo  city.” 

‘‘  My  daughter,  do  not  leave  me,”  said  the  moth- 
er; “I  ha\^e  missed  you  so  many,  many  years  that  I 
cannot  have  you  out  of  my  sight  now.  I cannot  be 
long  with  you ; I am  old,  very  old — far  older  than 
most  live ; my  journey  of  life  has  been  in  the  long 
summer  day  : even  that  is  ending.  The  sun  is  set- 
ting, yet  the  day  that  has  been  so  dark  and  cloudy 
is  closing  in  a clear  sky.  The  sun  is  goiug  down 
in  gold  and  crimson,  but  I see  another  day  dawn- 


376 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


ing;  another  sun  is  rising  that  will  never  set.  It 
will  not  be  long,  my  children,  before  its  light  shines 
on  me ; until  then  stay  with  me.” 

“ Mother,  you  are  yet  strong,”  said  Leng  Tso, 
“ and  I hope  that  you  will  stay  many  years  to  glad- 
den and  guide  us  by  your  words.  Duty  as  well  as 
pleasure  calls  me  to  the  Foo  city;  let  me  go  while 
you  are  so  strong.  Before  many  months  I will  be 
back  to  stay  with  you.” 

“ I cannot  remain  many  years,”  replied  the 
mother;  “for  when  one  more  year  passes,  I shall 
have  walked  the  long  life-journey  of  eighty  years. 
Yet  I am  strong,  almost,  as  many  women  of  sixty. 
Gcxl  doubtless  has  spared  me  in  strength  until  this 
time  that  I might  meet  my  child  again,  and  that  I 
might  through  her  be  led  to  know  a better  God 
than  our  land  can  give.  My  daughter,  since  I am 
so  strong,  why  may  I not  go  with  you  and  Ijin  to 
the  Foo  city  and  see  the  brethren  and  sisters  of  the 
Church  there?” 

“ Are  you  strong  enough,  mother?”  asked  Leng 
Tso,  who  was  greatly  pleased  at  the  thought  of  tak- 
ing her  mother  with  her. 

“Yes.  I think  that  if  we  go  up  in  a boat  I 
can  easily  make  the  journey.  If  need  be,  we  can 
call  a (sedan)  chair,  in  which  I may  ride  from  the 
boat  to  the  home  of  some  friend.  I should  like  to 
meet  other  Christians,  and  tell  them  what  the  Lord 
has  done  for  me,  an  unworthy  old  woman.  It  has 
been  in  my  heart  since  I began  to  serve  God  that  I 


MEETING  OF  OLD  FRIENDS. 


377 


would  like  to  have  his  people  know  it.  And  do 
you  think,  my  child,  that  the  preacher  and  the 
brethren  will  count  me  worthy  to  sit  down  with 
them  and  remember  the  Lord’s  death  ? Ever  since 
you,  lau  and  Lin  told  me  about  that  feast  my  heart 
has  longed  to  take  of  it,  that  I may  show  that  I 
love  Jesus  and  have  taken  him  as  my  Saviour.  I 
can  do  little  else  to  show  my  love  to  him.  In  this 
way  I can  at  least  let  others  know  that  Jesus  will 
save  old  people — that  none  are  too  old  to  trust  in 
him.  But  I am  unworthy  of  his  love.  It  is  all 
mercy.  How  good  is  God,  how  loving  is  Jesus,  to 
sinners!” 

In  a few  days  Leng  Tso,  her  son  and  her  mo- 
ther started  in  a boat  for  the  Foo  city.  Chiap 
Chim  bore  the  fatigue  of  the  journey  well,  seem- 
ing as  strong  when  she  reached  the  place  as  when 
she  had  started. 

The  three  went  at  once  to  the  home  of  one  of 
Ijcng  Tso’s  warmest  friends.  This  woman  was  de- 
lighted to  meet  her  old  friend  again,  and  glad  to 
welcome  Leng  Tso  to  her  own  home.  She  was 
one  of  those  whom  Leng  Tso  had  brought  to  the 
chapel  and  to  the  Saviour.  Lin  and  Chiap  Chim 
were  welcomed  for  the  mother  and  daughter’s  sake 
not  only,  but  because  they  too  were  Christians. 

After  the  story  of  Lin,  as  well  as  that  of  Chiap 
Chim,  had  been  told,  and  Leng  Tso  had  related 
her  own  experience  since  she  left  the  Foo  city, 
the  woman,  Kin  Chim,  said. 


378 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIBL. 


“ have  had  a change  here  in  the  church.  A 
new  preacher  and  a new  chapel-keeper  have  been 
sent.  The  preacher  is  a young  man,  and  we  all 
like  him  very  much,  but  we  like  the  new  chapel- 
keeper  even  better.  He  is  a very  warm-hearted 
man,  and  full  of  love  to  the  Lord’s  work.  He  is 
a much  older  man  than  the  preacher,  and  seems 
almost  as  learned  in  the  doctrine,  though  the 
jjreacher  has  studied  for  a number  of  years  in  the 
school  taught  by  foreign  teachers.  The  chapel- 
keeper  is  aw'ay  now  to  preach  the  gospel  in  the 
villages,  and  will  not  be  back  until  ‘worship-six.’* 
His  wife  lives  in  the  next  house,  and  we  shall 
probably  see  her  soon ; she  is  a warm-hearted 
Christian  too,  and  is  a wise  woman.  She  can 
read  almost  any  book.  She  has  taught  her  hus- 
band, Khiau  Chek,  to  read.” 

Khiau ! When  Leng  Tso  heard  that  name  what 
memories  it  brought  to  her ! But,  as  the  name 
is  not  an  uncommon  one,  she  did  not  for  a mo- 
ment think  that  the  chapel-keeper  was  the  Khiau 
* While  the  Chinese  do  not  divide  their  time  into  weeks, 
the  Christian  Chinese  do.  They  call  the  Sabbath  “ worship- 
day,”  and  Monday  “ worship-one,”  or  one  day  after  worship  ; 
Tuesday  is  “worship-two,”  etc.,  and  Saturday,  “worship-six.” 
It  is  probable  that  the  Chinese  did  once  divide  the  time  into 
periods  of  seven  days.  There  was  years  ago,  and  probably  is 
j’et,  an  almanac  used  at  Amoy  that  had  the  days  divided  thus. 
And,  strange  to  say,  their  first  day,  which  is  our  Sunday,  is 
marked  by  two  characters  meaning  “sun”  and  “quiet,”  or 
“ rest  day.”  The  Chinese  quite  certainly  many  centuries  ago 
worshiped  the  sun  on  this  day,  and  also  rested  from  work. 


MEETING  OF  OLD  FRIENDS. 


379 


•whom  she  had  known.  She  was  sure  that  Khiau 
had  died  long  ago  in  the  destruction  of  the  city. 

Before  Kin  Chim  had  time  to  tell  more  of  the 
news  visitors  came  to  see  and  welcome  the  new- 
comers, and  to  greet  Leng  Tso  again.  They,  too, 
had  news  to  tell  of  the  strangers  in  the  chapel,  but 
did  not  give  the  name  of  the  village  from  which 
the  people  had  come.  Hardly  had  these  visitors 
departed  when  Khiau’s  wife  came  in.  She  and 
Leng  Tso  were  soon  talking  together  as  though 
they  had  always  been  friends.  Since  she  came  to 
the  Foo  city,  Khiau  So  had  heard  so  much  about 
Leng  Tso  that  at  first  she  was  almost  disappointed 
to  find  her  so  plain  in  her  appearance  and  nothing 
but  a large-footed  woman.  Yet  she  was  too  polite 
to  seem  to  notice  anything  in  Leng  Tso’s  appear- 
ance. 

Before  long  she  felt  that  the  large-footed  woman 
was  as  truly  a lady  as  if  she  had  been  brought  up 
in  the  most  cultured  family  of  China.  Leng  Tso 
had  seen  much  more  of  the  world  than  most  Chi- 
nese women,  and  her  life  of  sorrow,  added  to  her 
most  loving  nature,  now  sanctified  by  a Christian 
spirit,  made  her  appear  to  her  acquaintances  as  a 
refined  lady. 

The  hearts  of  both  women  were  full  of  Christian 
love,  and  each  saw  that  in  the  other  was  a true  and 
deep  piety  not  only,  but  a burning  anxiety  for  the 
souls  of  those  around  them.  Not  until  now  had 
either  woman  found  another  to  sympathize  fully 


380 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


with  her  in  a purpose  that  was  taking  control  of 
the  heart  of  each. 

Leng  Tso’s  sorrowful  life  had  taught  her  that 
the  lot  of  woman  in  China  was  a wretched  one. 
She  knew  well,  too,  that  idolatry  and  superstition 
were  holding  the  women  in  a worse  and  more  soul- 
crushing slavery  than  that  which  custom  imposed 
on  them. 

Khiau  So’s  experience  had  not  been  so  sad, 
hut  she  had  heard  much,  when  yet  in  her  father’s 
house,  of  the  wretched  condition  of  women  among 
the  lower  classes ; and  since  she  had  been  reduced 
to  poverty,  and  had  mingled  with  the  poor,  she 
had  seen  how  pitiful  is  the  lot  of  most  women 
in  China.  She  had  long  known  that  the  laws  and 
customs,  instead  of  improving  the  condition  of 
woman,  tend  to  make  it  worse.  Since  she  had  be- 
come a Christian  and  seen  how  few  women,  com- 
pared with  the  men,  are  followers  of  Christ,  she 
felt  that  Chinese  customs  were  having  an  effect  even 
on  the  Church.  At  first  she  hoped  that  the  gospel 
would  raise  the  condition  of  the  women,  but,  as 
she  thought  how  custom  shut  them  out  from 
hearing  the  truth,  she  felt  that  the  gospel  must 
be  presented  in  some  other  way'. 

Leng  Tso,  rising  from  the  lower  classes,  and 
Khiau  So,  coming  down  from  the  higher,  met  on 
middle  ground.  Each  had  the  same  story  to  tell 
of  the  needs  of  women  in  China,  and  each  believed 
that  the  only  remedy  was  in  the  gospel.  Yet  each 


MEETING  OF  OLD  FRIENDS. 


381 


felt  that  other  workers  were  needed.  Men  might 
teach  the  men,  but  they  could  reach  few  of  the 
women,  and  these  the  mothers  of  children  already 
grown.  Whilst  the  men  were  worshiping  in  the 
chapels  the  mothers  would  be  at  home  teaching 
their  young  children  to  worship  idols.  What 
some  missionaries  have  failed  to  see,  and  all  have 
been  almost  powerless  to  remedy,  these  two  women 
saw,  and  they  had  determined  to  try  a remedy.  It 
was  to  teach  the  women  in  their  homes — to  train 
women  wlio  would  do  a work  that  no  man  could  do. 

Of  tliese  things  did  the  two  women  talk  until 
each  one  respected  the  other  more  than  any  woman 
she  had  ever  met.  If  Leng  Tso  admired  Khiau 
So’s  learning,  Khiau  So  no  less  admii’ed  the  good 
sense  of  Leng  Tso.  Each  felt  that  in  the  other 
there  was  a noble  soul. 

After  a long  talk  Khiau  So  rose  to  go.  Before 
starting  she  asked, 

“ Have  you  seen  the  Christians  who  have  lately 
come  from  Thau  Pau?” 

“From  Thau  Pau?”  asked  Leng  Tso  in  sur- 
prise. “ I heard  that  some  who  had  been  driven 
from  their  home  had  come  here  to  worship  God, 
but  no  one  told  me  tliat  they  were  from  Thau  Pau. 
I lived  there  when  I was  a girl ; perhaps  I know 
them.  Who  are  they?” 

“You  lived  in  Thau  Pau?”  said  Khiau  So,  sur- 
prised in  turn.  “ That  is  my  husband’s  birthplace. 
Did  you  know  him — Le  Khiau?” 


382 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


“Khiau?  Le  Khiau  your  husband?  Know 
him?  know  Khiau?  Yes.”  The  last  words  she 
said  so  softly,  so  sadly,  that  Khiau  So  saw  that 
there  was  something  that  gave  Leng  Tso  pain ; so 
with  a kind  word  of  parting  she  left  the  house. 

Khiau  alive ! Khiau  married ! Khiau  near 
her,  but  the  husband  of  another!  Khiau,  the 
good  man  whom  all  loved ! What  resurrections 
there  were  in  the  heart  of  Leng  Tso ! She  had 
given  him  up  years  ago,  and  thought  that  he 
was  forgotten  except  as  the  memory  of  cherished 
friends  lives  long  after  they  are  dead. 

No  mortal  knew  of  the  trial  in  Leng  Tso’s 
heart  that  night.  Excusing  herself,  she  went  to 
a room  alone,  and  there  the  old  struggle  was  re- 
newed, this  time  to  be  settled  for  ever.  A Stronger 
than  woman  was  on  her  side,  and  at  last  she  gained 
the  victory.  Her  lifelong  love  for  Khiau  was  not 
slain,  nor  yet  made  a captive  watching  for  an 
opportunity  to  break  from  its  bondage;  it  was 
exalted  into  the  highest  lov’^e,  next  to  the  love  for 
God,  that  the  human  soul  can  feel  on  earth — a 
love  that  impelled  her  to  give  hei’self,  with  Khiau 
and  his  faithful  wife,  to  the  one  great  soul-thrilling 
passion  of  saving  souls  for  eternity.  This  victory 
was  given  her  from  above. 

She  could  now  think  calmly  of  Khiau  as  mar- 
ried to  another;  she  could  even  admire  his  culti- 
vated wife.  As  she  thought  how  much  more 
efficient  such  a companion  would  make  him,  she 


MEETING  OF  OLD  FRIENDS. 


383 


could  ev’en  feel  thankful  that  Khiau  had  so  supe- 
rior a wife.  We  do  not  mean  to  say  she  loved 
Khiau  now  merely  as  a friend  or  even  as  a brother, 
we  cannot  describe  or  name  the  feeling  with  which 
she  regarded  him.  In  her  thoughts  Khiau  was 
henceforth  not  alone,  nor  were  he  and  his  wife  only 
associated.  In  thoughts  of  them  she  was  also  pres- 
ent. It  was  no  longer  two,  but  three ; and  the  three 
had  one  common  purpose — saving  souls. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 


CLOSING  VIEWS. 


PON  Khiau’s  return  his  wife  told  him  that 


“ Ban  Chiin,”  of  wliom  the  people  had  told 
them  so  much,  had  come  back,  and  that  she  once 
lived  in  Thau  Pau,  his  old  home,  and  knew  him. 

“Ban  Chim,  of  whom  the  people  have  talked  so 
much,  lived  in  Thau  Pau  and  knows  me?  Who  can 
it  be  ? Ban  Chim?  Have  I been  so  stupid?”  said 
he,  suddenly  recollecting  the  past.  “ How  is  it  that 
I never  thought  who  this  Ban  Chim  js?  Knew 
her?  Yes,  I knew  her  well;”  and  Khiau  was 
silent. 

His  wife  saw  that  some  sad  thoughts  were  called 
to  his  mind  by  the  remembrance  of  Ban  Chim,  and 
said  nothing  more,  thinking  that  if  it  were  anytlnng 
she  should  know  her  husband  would  tell  her. 

Khiau  had  so  fully  believed  that  Leng  Tso  had 
been  killed  in  the  caj)ture  of  the  city  that  it  never 
occurred  to  him  that  Ban  Chim  might  be  Leng 
Tso.  As  the  people  praised  her  reading  without 
telling  her  history,  Khiau,  knowing  that  Leng  Tso 
had  no  opportunity  in  early  life  to  study,  did  not 


384 


CLOSING  VIFAVS. 


385 


for  a moment  suppose  that  this  helper  was  his 
old  friend. 

His  struggle  was  not  so  great  as  hers  had  been, 
but  the  result  was  not  very  different.  The  thought 
that  she  was  a Christian  and  so  active  a worker 
made  him  almost  content  to  give  her  up.  During 
all  those  years  since  the  destruction  of  the  city  he 
had  believed  her  dead,  and,  what  to  his  Christian 
heart  was  far  worse,  not  saved.  Now,  to  find  her 
alive  and  a devoted  Christian,  even  though  she 
could  not  be  his  ! 

“ Yes,  it  is  well,”  said  he  to  himself  as  he  thought 
over  the  past ; “ it  is  ten  thousand  times  better  than 
to  have  her  dead  and  lost.  She  is  saved  now. 
She  cannot  be  mine,  but  she  is  Christ’s,  and  that  is 
better.  I am  married  to  a woman  who  is  only 
second  to  Leng  Tso.  Why  should  I not  be  con- 
tent? Had  Leng  Tso  been  my  wife  we  might 
both  have  been  idolaters  now,  or,  worse  still,  might 
both  have  been  killerl  in  the  ruin  of  the  city. 
Killed!  Then  whei’e  should  we  have  been  now? 
Better  saved  and  serving  our  Lord,  even  though 
separated  for  life,  than  to  be  united  for  a few  years 
on  earth  and  lost  for  ever.” 

Khiau,  as  a true  man  and  the  husband  of  a 
woman  fully  as  true  as  himself,  felt  that  he  could 
safely  tell  his  wife  the  whole  story  of  what  Leng 
Tso  had  been  to  him,  and  of  his  feelings  now. 

“ I knew,”  said  she,  “ that  you  had  loved  another. 
Your  manner  told  it,  and,  more  than  that,  you  are 


386 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


a man  whose  heart  must  love  some  one,  and  must 
win  somebody’s  love,  as  you  long  ago  won  mine. 
But,  beyond  all  this,  I knew  that  your  hojies  had 
been  disappointed,  for  often  in  your  sleep  you 
would  call  the  name  of  ‘ Leng  Tso,’  and  beg  her  to 
come  back  to  you,  or  command  some  one  not  to 
abuse  your  Leng  Tso.” 

“ Yon  knew  all  this  ? Why  did  not  you  tell  me  ?” 
asked  her  husband. 

“ Because  I saw  that  you  had  enough  trouble,  and 
I knew  that  you  were  far  kinder  to  me  than  most 
husbands  are  to  their  wives,  so  I was  content.” 

“ But  did  not  your  heart  turn  away  from  me  ?” 

“ Why  should  it?  You  did  not  turn  from  me. 
It  was  only  in  your  dreams  that  you  spoke  of  this. 
Besides,  I meant  to  make  your  life  as  happy  for  you 
as  I could,  that  the  sorrows  of  the  past  might  be 
buried  so  deeply  by  present  joys  that  even  memory 
could  not  bring  them  back.” 

“How  shall  I act  toward  her  now?”  asked 
Khiau.  “How  will  you  treat  her?” 

“ I will  treat  her  as  one  worthy  the  love  of  the 
noblest  man  I have  ever  met,  and  so  should  you. 
She  cannot  be  your  wife  while  I live  and  we  obey 
God,  and  I am  certain  that  she  is  too  good  to  think 
of  coming  between  us.  I have  too  much  confidence 
in  you  both  to  give  myself  one  troubled  thought 
about  the  old  relations  between  you.” 

When  Khiau  and  Leng  Tso  met,  if  they  had 
any  feeling  of  sadness,  none  knew  it.  At  Khiau 


CLOSING  VIEWS. 


387 


So’s  suggestion  to  her  husband,  he  and  Leng  Tso 
spoke  freely  of  the  past,  that,  as  she  said,  they 
might  be  free  from  embarrassment  and  might  un- 
derstand each  other  entirely.  It  was  a wise  sugges- 
tion. None  but  the  three  knew  the  secret  that 
bound  together  this  trio  of  workers.  Each  under- 
stood and  thoroughly  sympathized  with  the  other 
two,  and  each  one  thought  the  others  the  more 
noble  and  self-sacrificing. 

But,  as  this  is  our  last  chapter,  the  few  things 
that  remain  to  be  said  must  be  told  briefly. 

Leng  Tso  was  not  more  glad  to  meet  her  old 
friends  from  Thau  Pau  than  were  they  to  see  her. 
They  were  surprised  to  find  that  the  Ban  Chim  of 
whom  they  had  heard  so  often  was  the  slave-girl 
Leng  Tso  whom  they  had  known  in  Thau  Pau. 
When  they  met  together,  Khiau,  Leng  Tso  and  the 
others  from  the  old  village,  for  the  first  time  in  the 
chapel,  it  was  a happy  reunion  to  them.  Again  the 
exercises  were  prolonged  until,  as  Khiau  said,  it 
seemed  that  they  preferred  to  spend  the  night  in 
the  chapel  to  going  to  their  homes. 

When  the  meeting  closed,  instead  of  separating, 
they  gathered  to  talk  of  the  old  times  of  childhood. 
Khiau  and  Liong  seemed  to  be  boys  again  under 
the  old  banyan,  and  many  were  the  outbursts  of 
laughter  that  came  from  the  happy  group.  To 
have  listened  to  them,  one  would  not  have  thought 
that  most  of  them  were  exiles,  driven  from  home 
and  robbed  of  all  their  property  because  they  re- 


388 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


fused  to  serve  idols.  But  their  joy  in  the  gospel 
made  up  for  all  their  losses,  and  under  all  their 
fun  and  humor  was  the  feeling,  shown  more  than 
spoken,  that  they  had  something  better  in  store 
than  all  that  earth  could  give. 

He  whose  Christianity  is  a living  power  running 
through  every  act  need  not  say  much  about  his 
inward  joy  and  hope.  It  is  not,  cannot  be,  kept 
.secret,  any  more  than  a light  can  be  hid  in  an  open 
basket : the  light  will  shine  through  every  crevice. 

During  this  reunion  of  old  friends  Leng  Tso 
asked  what  had  become  of  Hou. 

“ Oh,  have  you  not  heard  ?”  answered  Liong’s 
wife.  ‘‘He  is  dead.  He  died  a few  weeks  before 
we  left.  But  he,”  pointing  to  Liong,  “ can  tell  you 
more  about  it.” 

When  Liong  was  asked,  he  said  that  Hou  had 
sometimes  stood  by  the  door  when  they  held  their 
service  in  Thau  Pau,  and  seemed  very  much  inter- 
ested, but  would  speak  of  the  doctrine  to  nobody. 
One  night,  after  they  had  given  up  the  service  in 
the  village  and  went  out  to  the  hills  to  worship 
God  on  the  Sabbath,  Hou  came  to  Liong’s  house 
and  asked  him  if  they  had  given  up  that  worship. 
Liong  said  that  the  people  did  not  want  it  held  in 
the  village,  and  so  they  had  been  obliged  to  stop, 
but  did  not  trust  Hou  enough  to  tell  about  the 
meetings  over  the  hills. 

“ Is  it  not  a true  religion  ?”  asked  Hou.  “ I 
wish  that  it  were,  and  that  you  could  hold  the  meet- 


CLOSING  VIEWS. 


389 


ings  again.  The  gods  and  the  worship  of  the  spir- 
its do  not  satisfy  me.” 

Without  saying  more  Hou  left.  Liong  did  not 
know  what  he  meant  then,  fearing  that  he  was  try- 
ing to  find  out  whether  they  still  worshiped  the  for- 
eign God,  that  he  might  bring  them  into  trouble. 

After  his  death  his  wife  told  some  friends  that 
Hou,  while  sick — he  was  ill  only  a few  days — 
prayed  to  a god  whom  he  called  la  Sau,  and 
would  not  have  her  pray  to  the  other  gods,  or  even 
spirits.  Hou  So  had  not  attended  the  meetings  of 
the  Christians,  and  did  not  know  that  la  Sau  is 
Chinese  for  “ Jesus,”  and  that  her  husband  had 
prayed  to  him. 

The  exiles  had  been  only  a short  time  in  the 
Foo  city  when  two  of  the  missionaries  spent  a 
Sabbath  at  the  chapel.  At  the  inquiry-meeting 
they  decided  to  admit  Liong,  Gan  and  four  other 
men  from  Thau  Pau  to  the  Lord’s  Supper  and 
membership  in  the  Church.  It  was  a happy  day 
to  these  six.  But  the  others?  The  missionaries 
felt  that  they  did  not  yet  sufficiently  understand 
the  doctrine  of  the  gospel,  and  it  was  not  quite  cer- 
tain that  they  were  Cliristians ; so  it  was  thought 
safer  to  have  them  wait.  Some  missionaries  in 
China,  if  they  err  at  all  with  regard  to  receiving 
members  to  the  Church,  err  in  being  over-careful. 
This  care,  however,  is  wise. 

To  the  others  it  was  a severe  trial  not  to  be 
admitted  to  the  communion.  As  they  saw  their 


390 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


friends  taking  of  the  bread  and  wine  they  could 
not  help  asking  themselves,  “Why  are  we  left  out?” 
To  Leng  Tso’s  mother  the  trial  was  greater  than 
to  any  other.  When  she  was  told  to  wait,  she  came 
to  her  daughter  and  asked,  while  the  tears  were 
dropping  from  her  face, 

“ How  long  must  I wait  ? I may  die  before 
they  come  again.” 

Leng  Tso  said  they  might  be  up  again  in  a month 
or  two,  and  the  old  lady  was  partly  comforted. 

“ It  was  too  much  for  me  to  expect,”  said  she, 
“ that  they  would  accept  me  so  soon,  but  I did  wish 
to  sit  with  the  Lord’s  people  to-day;  I did  wish 
to  tell  that  an  old  woman  had  found  Jesus,  and 
that  he  would  be  just  as  willing  to  receive  others. 
But  the  Lord  knows  how  I feel,  and  it  is  much 
better  that  I be  kept  away  from  the  feast  for  a 
while  than  that  some  be  admitted  who  are  unfit.” 
It  was  not  long  before  Leng  Tso  had  the  pleas- 
ure of  seeing  her  mother  welcomed  to  the  Lord’s 
Supper  and  hearing  the  old  lady  say,  after  the 
communion, 

“ If  it  is  so  good  to  feast  with  the  Lord  on  earth, 
what  will  it  be  when  we  reach  heaven?” 

A few  months  after  this  communion  season  a 
message  came  from  Thau  Pan,  saying  that  if  the 
exiles  returned  they  might  have  their  fields  and  all 
their  property  again,  and  live  in  the  village  as  before. 

This  was  owing  to  no  change  of  mind  on  the  part 
of  the  persecutors;  they  remained  as  bitter  opposers 


CLOSING  VIEWS. 


391 


as  ever  to  the  worship  of  the  foreign  God.  But  the 
missionaries,  through  their  consul,  had  appealed  to 
the  Chinese  government  to  command  the  enemies 
of  these  Christians  to  allow  the  exiles  to  return 
and  take  possession  of  their  property.  Because  of 
its  treaty  with  foreign  nations,  in  which  it  is  agreed 
that  no  persecution  on  account  of  religion  shall  be 
permitted,  the  government  was  obliged  to  compel 
the  idolaters  in  Thau  Pau  to  receive  the  Christians 
back.  The  mandarins  had  delayed  as  long  as  they 
dared,  and  only  when  forced  by  higher  officers,  who 
in  turn  were  urged  by  the  foreign  consul,  did  they 
direct  that  tlie  persecution  should  cease  and  the 
outcasts  be  received  again. 

It  was  a more  happy  journey  that  Liong  and  his 
friends  made  when  they  returned  than  when  they 
were  driven  from  Thau  Pau.  They  had  but  one 
regret — that  they  had  now  no  one  to  teach  them 
more  fully  the  doctrine.  It  was  not  a warm  wel- 
come that  they  received,  but  to  be  allowed  to  return 
at  all  to  their  homes  they  considered  so  great  a 
favor  that  they  thought  little  of  the  ill-will  of  the 
people  in  the  village.  They  were  permitted  to  take 
possession  of  their  fields  and  houses,  but  their  buffa- 
loes and  much  of  tlieir  other  property  were  kept  by 
their  enemies.  Not  until  another  appeal  to  the  gov- 
ernment had  been  made  were  any  of  these  things 
returned,  and  much  of  their  property  was  never 
given  back. 

As  soon  as  they  were  settled  in  their  homes  they 


392 


THE  CHINESE  SLA  VE-GIRL. 


began  at  once  to  hold  Christian  worship.  Their 
enemies  dared  no  longer  forbid  it,  though  they 
tried  to  annoy  them  in  their  services.  Since  they 
had  been  under  the  instruction  of  a teacher,  the 
little  band  of  Christians  felt  all  the  more  need  of 
some  one  to  teach  them,  and  a request  was  sent  to 
the  missionaries  for  a teacher.  The  request  was 
granted,  and  Khiau  was  sent  to  be  their  teacher. 

Here  we  leave  Thau  Pan,  adding  that  shortly 
after  the  exiles  returned  five  more  of  them  were 
admitted  to  the  Church,  three  of  them  women. 
And  since  that  more  have  become  Christians. 
From  it  as  a centre  the  gospel  has  been  carried 
to  other  places,  until  there  are  already  the  begin- 
nings of  several  churches  in  the  villages  around 
Thau  Pau.  How  much  is  owing  to  the  faithful 
work  of  Khiau  we  cannot  say. 

Our  readers  may  wish  to  know  more  about  Leng 
Tso  and  others  who  have  appeared  in  this  story. 
Of  some  we  can  tell  nothing  more,  and  of  others 
there  is  little  of  further  interest  to  relate.  Some 
may  be  disappointed  to  find  that  the  author  has  not 
married  Leng  Tso  to  Khiau  in  the  closing  chap- 
ter. As  the  author  is  a clergyman,  he  might  have 
done  so,  but  he  has  always  objected  to  marrying  a 
woman  to  a man  who  has  a wife  living.  It  has 
been  the  purpose  of  the  writer  to  tell  facts  about 
a woman’s  life  in  China  rather  than  to  tell  a story 
that  would  simply  gratify  his  readers. 


CLOSING  VIEWS. 


393 


The  mother  of  Leng  Tso  did  not  live  long  after 
her  return  from  the  Foo  city  to  her  home,  whither 
her  daugliter  and  grandson  accompanied  her.  Her 
death  was  as  a setting  sun  in  a sky  with  few 
clouds — -just  enough  to  make  the  sunset  the  more 
glorious.  Her  clouds  were  that  she  had  so  late  in 
life  become  a follower  of  Jesus,  and  had  so  little 
time  to  do  something  to  show  her  love  to  him. 

Leng  Tso’s  son,  thinking  that  he  was  not  fitted 
for  special  work  in  the  gospel,  felt  that  he  could 
do  more  good  by  becoming  a business-man  and 
making  money  to  aid  the  work,  and  at  the  same 
time  doing  all  he  could  in  a quiet  way  to  lead  his 
countrymen  to  give  up  idols  for  the  service  of 
the  true  God.  In  this  decision  his  mother  upheld 
him,  .saying, 

“ If  all  the  men  of  any  ability  preach,  what  will 
the  Church  do  for  money,  and  what  for  men  to  care 
for  the  work  of  the  Church  that  preachers  cannot 
do?  If  all  the  best  men  are  teachers,  the  rest  will 
remain  scholars.  Let  all  the  watchful  sheep  be  taken 
from  the  fold,  and  what  will  become  of  the  lambs?” 

It  remains  but  for  us  to  speak  of  Leng  Tso  and 
Kliiau  So.  Though  separated,  they  continued  to  be 
faithful  friends,  devoted  to  the  work  to  which  they 
had  given  the  later  years  of  their  lives — teaching 
the  gospel  to  the  women  of  China. 

After  her  mother’s  death  Leng  Tso  .spent  much 
of  her  time  in  going  from  place  to  place  reading 
the  Bible  and  talking  of  its  truths  to  the  women. 


394 


THE  CHINESE  SLAVE-GIRL. 


Khiau  So’s  home  duties  prevented  her  doing  as 
much  of  this  work  as  she  wished.  When  Leng 
Tso  visited  Khiau  So  and  her  husband  in  Thau 
Pau,  the  three  spent  many  hours  in  speaking  of 
the  needs  of  the  people,  and  in  planning  ways  to 
win  them  to  the  truth. 

“ Oh,”  said  Khiau  one  day,  when  returning  from 
an  absence  of  some  days  to  preach  the  gospel  to 
other  villages,  “ it  is  discouraging  to  work  in  this 
way.  The  men  come  to  listen,  and  hear  the  truth 
gladly,  but  the  women  stay  at  home.  And  when 
their  husbands  return  almost  ready  to  accept  the 
gospel,  their  wives  turn  their  minds  from  it.  Some 
who  have  forsaken  superstition  and  idolatry,  and 
are  ready  to  give  themselves  to  the  service  of  God, 
are  lured  back  again  by  wives  and  mothers.  And 
when  fathers  do  become  Christians,  their  children 
do  not  very  often  follow.  The  mothers,  who  re- 
main idolaters,  teach  the  children  to  follow  their 
own  rather  than  their  father’s  God.  Even  though 
all  the  men  became  Christians,  the  next  generation 
would  be  idolaters.  We  must  do  more  for  the 
women.  Bring  them  to  Christ,  and  in  a genera- 
tion the  Middle  Kingdom  will  belong  to  our  Lord. 
But  how  to  do  it  is  the  question.” 

“ One  way  only  is  open,”  said  Khiau  So,  “ and 
that  is  for  the  women  to  do  as  Ban  Chim  is  doing, 
and  I am  trying  to  do  as  time  is  given.  Let 
women  take  the  Bible  and  preach  Jesus,  a Saviour, 
to  them  at  their  homes.” 


CLOSING  VIEWS. 


395 


‘^True,”  said  Khiau,  “but  where  are  the 
Avoinen  ?” 

“We  luust  have  schools,”  said  Leng  Tso,  “to 
fit  women  for  the  work.  Let  the  girls  of  Chris- 
tian parents  be  taught.  As  our  customs  are,  we 
must  have  men  to  teach  the  men  and  women  to 
teach  the  women.  Let  the  wives  of  preachers  be 
fitted  to  help  their  husbands,  for  we  have  few 
Khiau  Sos,  but  many  Hap  Sos  who  cannot  read 
at  all.  We  must  try  to  urge  the  women  in  the 
churches  to  do  more.  The  women  must  save 
China.  They  have  been  made  the  slaves, 

AND  THEY  ARE  THE  ONES  WHO  MUST  REDEEM 
THEIR  OWN ! Oh  that  more  women  would  come 
from  the  Christian  lands  to  be  teachers ! If  they 
knew  that  women  are  the  true  jiriests  of  idolatry 
and  superstition  in  the  Middle  Kingdom,  our  sis- 
ters in  Christian  nations  would  be  kept  awake  by 
a voice  crying,  ‘ Come  over  and  help  us !’  ” 


THE  END. 


VT-s» 

^ mi  ,vn*^  ^ 

ft*  ^ ^<t4^ 

-l»{'fi!.> ‘lyMf^liflb  i^K-  >(N 

««#  ^9h»^t.  w iiwo  inHt  iJma-  im^  • , 

'v  a nv  f -jf  . vi*jrifc»4if  ■aau;.*.  •<e<J  4^' 

iVif..-f»  .• ' ,.  *.  •'  .^.  ^ jrSar*® 

<iii^  «»i  *ft»i»«fT  >nr^  ]"Titf''**T'*** 

-J'oif  -r: 

.<5^4- -A  'A  il".  .1  .u*  !S  « 'S’T^.T  . 

-■  .Tfciiiii^r  Jbiar'fi. . -rfifc'' 

«i<  ’ ‘y#  »M‘i(c*/  -i»if!tt'aw|^;i^  ■ ’ ‘-'^“■«ipB^ - ^ 

• \i.  .»•  .V 

V'..^  / 4f#.'!ii. ,i' 

^<te  71<fr  .5-  ,.  .yj£  ^ ^j|l 

ihifwiiiKp  ♦.'tww^ 

^1*4,  Ki^,^,  a<r«f!&'‘ .^'jJ'ipj,.,-  -J 

v«5  # 

-^  '■'  ' ' ■ 

■ •'"'  ^ ,#A.'  _ 


■■■■  *4 

1MI|  '>  ’«jP^Jl||K 

■.<'«*  JmH 


I 


> 


1 


• 


